Summertime and the Living Is . . .

by Jo Robertson

We’ve just reached the triple digits in northern California and I feel like the Wicked Witch of the West screeching, “I’m melting, I’m melting.”

Summer’s definitely here to stay in our little corner of the world. In spite of the heat, mosquitoes, and escalating air conditioner bills, summer recalls those wonderful memories of childhood in my home state of Virginia.

Barefoot explorations. My mother never cared if we ran wild and barefoot all summer long. My standard clothing issue was shorts and halter top and NO SHOES. Our property sloped down the hillside to the banks of the James River and my brother and I spent hours exploring the territory.

Barefoot.

Gives me the shivers now.

Sleeping in. We had a screened in side porch where we always slept during the hot, humid summers. Our old house had a swamp cooler, but no air conditioning, so the meager breeze that swept off the river was essential!

Why is sleeping in still so wickedly delicious?

Fireflies. Not the Nathan Fillion kind – yum – and I’ll again recommend your buying the complete DVD of that amazing Joss Whedon TV series – but the bugs that light up.

As kids we always caught fireflies during the summer, captured them inside my mom’s canning jars, and stared at them all night as they rested on the floor by my bed. I'm still fascinated by the way their tiny bodies flash this amazing green light.

Ticks. Yes, we had tons of those little buggers. I distinctly remember one particularly fat one burrowing its body into my right butt cheek. I was about eleven, I think, and horrified at the thought of some crawly creature sucking my blood out like a vampire. That was also the summer I got interested in Bram Stoker. Mom used alcohol and tweezers and finally snipped off the head, leaving the body deep in my tender flesh.

I don’t remember the rest – I think I passed out.

Accidents. Why is summer always the time someone breaks a bone, gnashes a wrist or knee, or falls into an open sewer? I mention these three things because the summer I was twelve, my little brother Ken, eleven, managed to do all three on consecutive Saturdays.

Really.

The sewer was the worst. And I swear -- I was responsible only for one of the events -- the slashed wrist.

Ice Cream. I know, I know. It’s way cheaper to buy ice cream nowadays than to make your own, but there’s something that speaks of home and mom and comfort during warm summer nights with a giant bowl of homemade ice cream for company.

I’m again offering my super-duper infamous recipe for anyone who missed it previously. It’s easy, quick, and so light you’ll eat the entire canister by yourself. If the other people living in your house don’t beat you to it!

3 cups sugar

2 quarts of half and half

1 can evaporated milk

2 TB vanilla extract

1 TB lemon extract

And finally, making out on a blanket (otherwise known as picnicking). Okay, I’ll keep this PG-13, but summertime reminds me of dates I had with Dr. Big when we picnicked by the river. It was so beautiful and we were so much in love. Nuff said!

What about you? What's your standard "uniform" for the summer? What childhood memories does summertime bring to you? What kind of memories are you making for you children?

Are summer sports your thing -- water skiiing, rafting, sunbathing (hey, that's a sport!) Are you a sun worshipper or do you avoid it like the plague?

Do you enjoy picnic scenes in a romance novel? Do they remind you of a more relaxed time as opposed to our current hectic pace?