Takes me back to New York, Rte 50, Schuylerville Elementary, and the strawberry farm across the road. A penny a pint for picking was the going rate and you could eat the overripe ones as you went. Blondie was telling me to call her and Rod Stewart was wondering if I wanted his body. The woods were dark and deep behind the house and that Winter I accidentally burned the mittens my Nana crocheted for me when I forgot about them on the space heater in the garage. I can almost taste the school lunches, smell those red rubber balls in gym,feel my self swinging on the uneven bars and see all those skinny books in the Library. The twins got a baby doll that POOPED and PEED, we got bikes and learned to ride them. I got a huge scrape on my knee and still have the scar 30 years later. We raked leaves and jumped in them, tried to swim in the unheated pool after Labor Day and came out fast shivering and blue. I saw the floaties in my eyes for the first time while cloud watching lying on a blanket in the front yard. Nana taught us Kanasta and Crazy 8's and Scott shot Rachael in the head with one of those little suction cup guns. I dried the dishes with a rag that had been used on the floor-boy was that a mistake. I rubbed lotion on my Mom's feet at night and watched the fire in the family room. Sometimes we got dressed in our school clothes the night before and slept in them-we thought we were sooo clever. We played with the BIG Star Wars Action Figures-we had them all(I had a crush on Han Solo-his gun was the best!) and Donnie and Marie dolls from the Osmond show. I had a pack of mini cards and a chenille "magic" worm -both from bubble gum machines-and I cherished them. We helped plant yellow-orange marigolds and purple and yellow pansies at the front flower beds, nails all black with dirt. We ate the crusts of sandwiches and drank the dregs of sweet and milky coffee after Mom's parties. Liquid Sweet n Low was somehow delicious when sucked out of a toothpick. I drove a rigid frame mini bike into a tree at full throttle. Sisters were awesome and little brothers weren't all that bad, Special K was gross and so was the neighbors old warty miniature poodle. I see all this in my minds eye,through nostalgia's foggy lens-it's not everything of course, but it's enough.
That was a pretty amazing bowl of strawberries.
5 comments:
LOVE it!!!! I can so relate to most of that! You are an awesome writer!!
Thanks Amy-if felt good to write again.
Wow! That was beautiful!
And yeah...why DID the bombardament balls smell like sausage?
Thanks Victoria! It's nice how something simple can bring so much stuff rushing back at you though writing even the impressions is like trying to catch whirly gigs and missing way more than are caught as you turn and twist, running full tilt.
In other words typing with one hand while eating strawberries most everything just zoomed past, a silver flicker and gone and what I caught I just barely landed to weigh and measure and then let go again.
In other other words I have no idea why the red rubber balls smelled the way they did but I sometimes wonder if they still do.
I'm just glad that someone is finally talking about it (red rubber balls) because--that really happened and it's like no one knows what I'm talking about when I bring it up (which is often).
Seriously, I found your post really inspiring. It made me want to write. And eat strawberries! :)
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