Sunday, July 03, 2011

Keep Summer Simple Silly

And there's that one particular harbour
Sheltered from the wind
Where the children play on the shore each day
And all are safe within
Most mysterious calling harbour
So far but yet so near
I can see the day when my hair's full gray
And I finally disappear.

~Jimmy Buffett~


I don't know about you, but when I was a kid, summer was really simple.  Days ran into weeks, running barefoot between the beach and the water sprinkler in the yard. My wardrobe consisted of a bathing suit and baby doll jammies and Noxema  for the occasional sunburn.  Footwear? Simple; Flip flops and my Bionic-Woman running shoes. I can't recall whether I wore socks between June and September at all. I remember being dumped in a tub to scrub up with Ivory soap and drifting off to sleep with that smell on my clean, sun kissed skin.

I grew up in a small town, and had all of the freedom afforded of such an environment. Your conscience wasn't imposed, it was bred into you like your hair colour and your heart beat. If you weren't blood-related to someone in the little town, they surely knew your dad or grandpa.  Nobody but nobody would hesitate to let them know of any indiscretion you might hope to conceal.

I remember one summer day, my cousin and I thought that we should hold what I like to refer to now as, "Hallowe'en" in July. We scratched out a couple of Hallowe'en masks from the upstairs storage closet, grabbed two grocery bags, and were out the door. We only made it to three houses. Behind door number three was an old lady who hated Hallowe'en so much in October that she gave out pennies and peanuts instead of yummy-sugary treats. She sat us down in her kitchen while she called my mother. That was the abrupt end of what could have been a terrific summer tradition.  Mom let us eat the two cookies that the other nice old ladies dropped in our July trick-or-treat bags, after we went back and apologized for being so bold, of course.

Besides the Hallowe'en in July cookies, food was simple. Mom would dish up cereal or eggs with toast "fingers" most mornings, and we would be out the door as fast as our barefoot legs would carry us.  Kool Aid  could have sold stock in our town, and we routinely melted chocolate covered graham wafers in the sun on the sidewalk. We ate them when the chocolate was soft and melted, shaking away the ants and sidewalk debris the best we could. Do you remember the Tupperware iced pop molds? Mmm, there was a recipe that used Jello and Kool Aid, and I loved it!

At some point during our daily adventures,we made our way through the back yards of grandparents, aunts and uncles. That's where we would snack. Maybe we were hungry, maybe we were just kids looking for a bit of mischief, but our snacks were pilfered from neighbourhood gardens. Tomatoes were always best from my grandma's garden patch behind the woodworking shop. My aunt's carrots were the very best, but she'd get upset when we ran the garden hose out to rinse off the crunchy yummies. She used to yell out the window to, "Shut that hose OFF!".

Raspberries and pears. Mmmmm!!!  They were kinda fun to get. My neighbour Pete was old. Like antique-old, born in the 1800's old. But he was nice. He was like a big kid  and when we wanted pears or raspberries, he used to just smile at us as we made our way through his weedy berry bushes and dodged bees to get the pears.

Lunch. I don't remember many lunches. I'm sure we had them, likely sandwiches and mac and cheese. Lunch would be around the time that Mr. Dressup came on, followed by the, "News at Noon". At 1pm, most of the ladies in town would be transfixed by Days of Our Lives, and as long as we didn't interrupt, we were free to play in the yard, down the street, or at the beach. That's also when we did a lot of chocolate wafer melting on the sidewalk and sucking the nectar out of pink clover.

At the end of the day, everyone sat down for dinner with their family. When I grew up, I thought my mother was the BEST cook in the whole world. Summer menus were different than winter menus. During the winter  it was usually some kind of roasted meat, potatoes and veggies from a can. I think this was the quintessential rural Canadian meal. Summer was different. Potatoes and meat were cooked in the back yard on the big brick BBQ, and mom had lots of cold, fresh salads ready. Food was simple and delicious.  Dessert was often whatever fruit was in season with vanilla ice cream or cake.

Corn on the cob.  Grilled chicken, steak, fish, and sausage from the butcher shop. Fresh strawberries, , lettuce, peppers and green onions from the garden and cucumber picked fresh and tossed in some vinegar with salt and pepper. We had pies made with peaches, elderberries, currants, apples and cherries from our yard or our neighbour's.

We had such an abundance of fresh food that we spent hours and hours in August putting up tomatoes, beets, chili sauce, jams, peaches, pears, corn, beans.....and in the winter we would eat them, and would remember the work we put into preserving our food.

Summer was simple. Simple because we were kids. So this summer, the best gift I can give my kid is to keep it simple. Simple, fresh food, lots of time outside in the pool and beside the lake. Simple dinners. Simple ball games. Simple late nights watching the thunderstorms roll in. Simple, simple, simple.


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