But now it's summer! As of yesterday, actually! So happy summer, friends! Summertime as a kid was the other best three months of the year to me. (And, I know, to most kids out there who could finally sleep in until noon and experience life on a whim for a bit...That is, if Mom or Dad would drive!) I've been going through one of my particularly nostalgic bouts recently, I think partly because of the fact that life's currently in such an up-in-the-air place so I've been going back and digging up some bits of familiarity, but also just because it's nice to touch base with some of the old times, remembering what they were, with whom they were spent, and how those times and those people have factored in to where I'm at today. So for today, here are a few of my particular favorites:
1. I think we all know that it's hot outside. I stepped out to go grab my iced coffee this morning and was immediately thrown back to Hidden Creek Country Club in Reston, VA. Every summer between the ages of 6 and 13, Nana signed me up for their Junior Golf Program, which was a weekly thing that allowed for kids to get out on the course and learn the game. I LOVED IT and the longer I go without playing (it's been a really long time at this point) the more I miss it. Tuesday morning golf meant a lot of great things for a kid of that age, including:
-A Monday night sleepover at Nana and Pop-pop's house every week, which meant: my personal dinner requests (they still take them when I visit and head to their house for a visit...Nana's always been great about making sure that she's prepared for when her kids come over!), Super Mario Bros on the SuperNintendo in the basement (which still works, BAM), ice cream and old musicals like Meet Me in St. Louis and Seven Brides for Seven Brothers and Oklahoma! after dinner, among other things!
-Tuesday morning breakfasts from Nana (the works)
-A fun couple of hours on the golf course with Nana and the other kids and their parents and grandparents...I was a 9-holer so it never took too terribly long to get through the round, though because we had to walk we had a tendency to slow down as the course went on with our little legs and our big golf bags. We had some great laughs, Nana was a fantastic cheerleader (especially when I got that first birdie on 15...One shot to the green, one putt into the hole...hollaaaa), and because golf mornings are what I now associate the scent of bug spray with, I don't have a huge problem with it! Haha!
-A trip to the snack bar when we were finished, sometime the pool when I remembered my bathing suit, and then an afternoon back at Nana and Pop-pop's before having to get ready for ballet class in the evening!
Golf summers were great. There were weekly competitions within the program, like lowest number of putts and things like that to keep us engaged. (Or to keep kids without senses of humor, like me, nervous with really clammy hands the entire morning.) We had Pro-Am and Parent-Kid tournaments throughout the summer. One time, Dad and I were playing--it was an alternating shot kind of deal...He'd go, I'd go--and we hit into the trees where the cart path was. He aimed the ball back for the fairway, it bounced off a tree right back to us. I did the same thing. He did the same thing. I think it took us four or five shots to get out of that spot...Needless to say, that round probably wasn't our best, but the laughs we had after the fact were totally worth it.
Yes. Those were good days. Plus, I really miss the khaki skorts I wore with my P.E. tennis shoes and socks halfway up my shins...(Sorry for the sarcasm...I really do miss the golf, I don't miss my fashion-less days...)
2. The summer beach trip. Nags Head, NC was the yearly destination. (Or one of the surrounding beaches...Southern Shores, Duck...It's all the same to me.) I'm reminded of this one a lot here in the city, actually, because on my way to NYLA, a rehearsal studio I've spent a lot of time at over the last six months, I discovered a spot on the sidewalk on W. 19th Street that smells JUST like Newmann's Shell Shop. The first time I walked by it I freaked out and texted my parents. (What did it smell like, you ask? Well, the building that I walk by is Bed, Bath and Beyond so I'm pretty sure it's just the scent of their potpourri coming out of the vent. But it's Newmann's!!) Newmann's, unfortunately, closed down several years ago...It was one of our annual to-dos during our beach week and they always had the same shells and toys, a few t-shirts, and lamps and things made out of beach glass. I would get a little souvenir sandcastle to add to my collection and it was from Newmann's that I got my first, and only, hermit crab. (A much better idea than reality.) It was a small, family owned one-room building right on Beach Road, and I'm still a little bummed that it had to close. Trust me, it smelled great.
I'm pretty sure what takes the cake for summer beach week, though, is the pirate saga. Growing up, we always went to the beach with close family friends, and what became of the pirate adventures over the course of all those years I will never forget and I was ALWAYS love and look back on happily. First of all, Dad and Richard used to tell us stories about their days on the high seas, giving us accounts of their run-ins with Captain Blackbeard (the bad guy) and the bravery of Captain Bluebeard (the good guy)...I mean, I knew my Mom and Dad had a boat when I was really little, AND Dad knew how to run it, so I knew there was truth to it all! Richie and I used to sit on the deck with our binoculars and scan the ocean's horizon for pirate ships. Whenever we saw a fishing boat or a whatever boat or a figment of an imagination boat sitting out there, we'd automatically start discussing who we thought it was--Blackbeard or Bluebeard--and what they were doing here. As we got older, the pirates started leaving us things back in the house throughout the day. We'd come in for lunch after being on the beach all morning and go back into the bedroom to find doubloons on our pillows. There would be a pile of precious stones on the kitchen table. There would be a note on the deck. (Things were happening, y'all.) The week would go on and we'd hide away our findings, fearing that Blackbeard would sneak in when we went back to the beach after lunch and steal our treasures. But don't worry...we were very careful and nothing was ever touched. As the years went by, I think the unseen pirates (we decided it was Bluebeard's doing) began to really trust us, as we'd start finding treasure maps on the last morning. By the time the pirates made their last hoorah, we woke up to find a glass bottle with a singed map inside. On the map was a diagram of our house's property (!!!), instructions for us to follow--paces, directions (!!!), and a big ol' X (!!!). Picture it...I can't even remember what exact ages we were, but we were probably about 12, 11 and 7, at the oldest. So you can assume that there was an excited bunch of kids in that house. Excited, but SERIOUS. We had treasure to find, y'all! So out we went to the back deck and we followed our map to a T. Guess what we found?! The X. Guess what was buried there?! A BIG, OL' TREASURE CHEST. Filled with doubloons, gold, goblets and jewels. The chest was burned and had etchings of initials and crossbones and a few bullets had been wedged into the sides! Something had gone down out there on the open ocean, but this treasure had made it and was now safe with us. With the help of our moms, the treasure was divvied and stashed in our closet for safekeeping and we went about the rest of our last beach day.
Guys, the treasure chest and map came home with us, it lived in my bedroom, and I showed it off to people. For, like, years. If you ever came over to my house to play, I'm pretty sure you probably saw it.
Seriously though...happenings like this went on summer after summer. What is not to love about real live treasure hunts? I'll tell you...nothing. Just make sure that if you ever find some, lock it up in your closet right away so Captain Blackbeard doesn't come steal it away ;)
Dwelling in the past is an unproductive way to go about spending time. But thinking about it and being thankful for it and taking a minute to relive the joy that those times brought you isn't, I don't think. I think it's a good thing actually...These days, whenever I think about summertime as a kid, I'm reminded at how awesome my family is. I'm reminded of all the great things that life brought up until this point, and all of that makes me excited to see what's going to come after it. I'm able to refresh the lessons that I've learned along the way, like don't take yourself too seriously and always have good manners. (Thanks to Dad I learned from an early time--"What do good manners make little girls?" "Pretty." "What do good manners make little boys?" "Handsome." My face would always turn red when I had to answer the "handsome" part. It probably still would. But this is a lesson I'll never forget and still holds true!) I'm also reminded to enjoy these moments. We enjoy those moments we have as kids because we don't really know to do anything else. The older we get, the more "stuff" life brings with it and it's easy to forget about the fun part. Now, vacations have to be timed a little better to fit in between this and that, and a day at the beach isn't complete without emails and work calls. A visit home is shadowed by what needs to be done before getting back to the city and not getting completely out of shape before that audition next week. But take all of that extra stuff away and what's left? The same things we always knew: the family, the time, the season...Other things may be calling our attention elsewhere, but take time every so often to hone in on the simplicity of the moment beneath all the extra chaos.
Be a kid and find that joy every once in awhile :)
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