Although the summer solstice is long gone, and as D once said, it’s all downhill from here as far as warm weather goes, yesterday I realized how awesome long summer days are. I can get more things done before it’s dark outside, I’m actually happier – I don’t know about you but during winter I get really depressed; and the snow we get here ain’t helpin’. Anyway, happy thoughts, happy thoughts… This idea has been brewing for a while. I’ve wanted to write about the summer of my childhood ever since I’ve posted this just because I don’t want to forget. Blogging will kind of be like writing my memoirs.
When I was a kid, summer officially began on the 15th of June. The last day of school. It seemed almost too good to be true. That day was like the Christmas of summer time, only that as presents we got zero tests, zero having to wake up early and zero studying. We did have the reading list for the next school year to go through, but that was OK. My sister and I would wake up at 9 am, usually no later than that, in our unconditioned two-bedroom apartment. Global warming wasn’t an issue back then. In June the linden tree which almost reached our livingroom window was still in bloom and in the early morning the air was so sweet I would step outside on the balcony and try to breathe it all in. It’s still one of my favorite smells, no matter how many Chanels I take a whiff at. Right after we woke up, my sister and I would have something to eat – I specifically remember my Mom’s homemade yogurt. She used to leave us notes on the kitchen table saying “There’s yogurt in the fridge, butter, bread and honey. Eat.” So we’d eat that. We didn’t like cereals back then. We’d make some tartines with whatever the note said, and we’d take them two on a plate in the living room where we’d watch cartoons on an Italian TV channel.
Before you know it, it was noon and we were still in our breezy pajamas. We’d have lunch – usually a hearty Romanian sour soup with noodles and vegetables which kept our bellies full until dinner time – or until the sweet tooth kicked in and we ran to the corner store and bought biscuits, chocolate or any combination of both. In the afternoon we’d sometimes attempt going through our reading lists, that is until we decided we’d had enough of the summer heat and started spraying each other with water. Inside the apartment. Our parents were not impressed.
Some summers we went with our parents on vacation, others we went to camp and we came back with notebooks filled with songs and memories written down in purple glittery ink. We still kept some of those notebooks, and now as I go through them I am amazed at how different my handwriting was back then.
I remember many things from when I was a wee lass, but the first image I see in my mind’s eye when I think about the me of 15 years ago, is that of our bedroom window, with the afternoon light seeping in through the sheer curtains. As I’m sure is the case with all of us my childhood memories are filtered in this golden nostalgic hue. I think that’s how they’re supposed to be.