Sometimes the most insignificant dont mean a thing moments turn into a reverie. I had one today contemplating a tomato. As in, what should I do with this beautiful summertime bounty? I looked around- saw some bread. Ill make a tomato sandwich! like the kind I used to make because of Harriet The Spy. I thought about losing myself as a young girl in that book- reading it many, many times, because I was so fascinated with various aspects of it. What would it be like to live in Manhattan? Whats it like having a nanny like Ole Golly? I remember making that sandwich, and to my delight, I loved he taste, the texture, everything. I didnt know what thrilled me more- the discovery of a new, delicious sandwich, or very consciously realizing that books were a door into a world where magic happens, and transport to other worlds occurs. It rolled me into other summertime memories- the smell of the beach house in my hometown, the regional Blue Moon ice cream, and its indescribable flavor. Picking blueberries and raspberries, then turning them over to Mother, who turned them into heavenly desserts that we only had in berry season. I guess she could have frozen some, and made one of those delicacies in the winter for us, but Im glad she didnt. It rolled and rolled like this for a while, and then I landed in the spot where I always land. I had a wonderful childhood, with memories that I can sink into without fear or anxiety at any time. I grew up with a rock solid family, core group of friends, and neighborhood kids that I can STILL COUNT ON! Theyre still Right. Here. Were helping each other in so many ways, even if by tenuous little threads made out of Facebook material. So yeah, moments like that dont mean a thing. They mean everything.
Posted on: Mon, 28 Jul 2014 23:53:57 +0000
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