SUMMER ALPHABET (CONTINUED)

 G = GARDEN  My parents always had a garden in summer and it extended into autumn. It was a point of pride for my father, we grew corn, tomatoes, peppers, onions, potatoes, strawberries, cucumbers and lettuce. An additonal flourish were the rows of gladiolias mum planted in the lower garden, rigtht by the road....they were the envy of every passing motorist. 

My father was a Type A personality. He strung line to make the rows precise and hoed each hole in uniformed accuracy.  A major job of mine was to plant the corn. Dad instructed to place five kernels of corn in the pattern of the five dots on a die. He would walk down the rows inspecting and I've seen him take his stick and nudge a not-in-the-exact place errant kernel back into place. 

H = HARVEST OF CORN   In late August/early September the entire immediate family and a few aunts and cousins gathered to harvest the corn.  We had rows and rows of corn. It was an operation of roles and responsibilities. My father set up his Coleman stove on the table outside near the picnic table. Inside the house, mum and assorted aunts woman-ed the stove boiling canning jars. Outside on the picnic table cooked corn was cut onto large trays and carried in to be canned. Empty cobs were dumped in the wheelbarrow and hauled to the compost pile.

I enjoyed the opportunity a brother would provide me to drive the car through the field to pick the corn and place it in the trunk and drive back.  Then the husking...the husking...the husking....did I mention the husking?

These are fond memories because the family labored together, each had a job and the energy of being with one another on a shared task was joy.

I = ICE CREAM  Frequently during the summer we went to the local "Del's Frozen Custard" stand for ice cream.  I was a twist girl, my mother favored the black raspberry flavor.   

Part of the summertime ice cream experience is to hone the skill of eating the ice cream before it melts. This particular skill seems to be the acumen of adults and older siblings who would quickly grab a melting ice cream cone from my hand, lick around it to stop the dripping...and...hand it back to me....yum. 

            

SUMMER ALPHABET (continued)

 D = DIVING BOARD    I was a creek swimmer.  Looking back, I try not to think much on exactly what we swam in.  As an adolescent heading off to Jr. High one makes friends from the other elementary schools in the area.  Those relationships led me to the Freeport Pool. 

After not being able to see the bottom of the creek and having to wear "creek shoes" to navigagte the rocks, the gleaming, chlorinated, clear blue waters of the white painted cement of the Freeport Pool was alluring.  The pool had a shallow end, a middle section with depths of about 5.5 feet and the roped off deep end of the pool where the diving boards were located. There were three boards. Two smaller ones and the looming large high dive.  

One walked up the steps to reach the board. It felt like at a certain angle I should've been able to see my house from that height.  The high diving board was a right of passage, a call to woman-up and just do it. These "rights of passage" always require a group of friends to support, agree with the assessment that this was crazed behvior and then to do it in solidarity....each one and all, as it were, jumping through the passage braver and bolder and more bad-asser.

E = EARLY CHURCH  Before the majority of churches would finally spring for the cost to air condition the sanctuary and prior to offering various services at different tiimes, there was early church. 

From the middle of June until Labor Day wekeend, congregations held worship an hour early, at 10 am. I don't recall it being any cooler, yet, following worshp persons would often exlclaim, "Now that's over, we've got the whole Sunday!"  I'm not certain that was the sought-after sentiment, yet, the fact was an entire summer Sunday was indeed wide open!

F = FRISBEE  There remains an inherent cool factor associated with the frisbee. This flying disc was made for the wide-open parks and fields of summer. The frisbee was easy to transport and fit in a backpack, trunk or frontseat. Once you learned how to throw it, the opportunities were endless and lots of people could play. Running under a softly hovering frisbee was bliss.   

To me, the frisbee is like the Instagram of summer sports; someone invents and masters creative ways to both throw and catch ---- behind the back, under the leg, leaping up and catching it between your legs, doing so backwards. Others notice, practice and accomplish said feats. This inspires more creativity and invention. Being tricky and athletic in the game of frisbee earned one instant "Look at that!" comments and a summer's worth of cool.

Start of Summer 2021

 

It is said that "every summer has a story." 

As summer officially begins, I offer my Alphabet of Summer which will contain memories of stories past and the foundation of tales yet to be experienced.

A = ALL DAY    The days of summer seem to just lay out in front of you.  The days are long and sunny (yes, that even happens here in Western PA).  One too feels an expanse of possibility and positive energy.  As a kid, free from school buildings, there was a sense of having all day to play and be outside. It was and is glorious!

B = BEALE REUNION    One of the common events of summer is the Family Reunion. My maternal grandparents, Ira and Emma Beale, had eleven children, nine of whom lived to adulthood. When I was a kid we gathered at my Aunt Ruth and Uncle Chuck's home off of the Allegheny River in Kennerdale, PA. 

Lessons learned from the Beale Reunion were:

• The women of the Beale line could cook.  They nurtured through food.  Trust me, I was nurtured well. The food spreads at the reunion were tables long and some of the best food I've ever eaten.
• The power of story.  A family that was grounded in the land and gardened, spent significant time in the woods, who hunted and fished, served and sacrificed had great tales to tell. Reflecting, I realize they have shaped all the members of the line and I hope the major themes of family, strength, grace and grit continue in me.
• The hierarchy of the river.  After frisbee and food, lounging and lawn darts, we crossed the railroad tracks and headed to the river. There was an order to your time in the water.  When you were a toddler to age 6 you were a mud-wallower and your river experience was in the mud near the shoreline.  From ages seven to eleven you could venture out of the mud to actually get into water above your waist so as to swim and tread and float. The teenage years and up allowed you to jump off the dock and if so lead go water skiing while Uncle Chuck, pipe in mouth, drove the boat.

C = CANTALOUPE   My mother was a major fan of the summer cantaloupe. When they were harvested and put out in bins to be purchased from the local Ambrose Farm we made several trips....sometimes twice a week to buy melons. Of course, mum would zero-in on the near-perfect melon somehow always located in the back of the bin. I would take on gymnastic moves, balancing myself on the lower rung of the bin and reached for the desired melon trying always not to fall into the cantaloupes nor to cause neither the "lesser melons" nor myself to tumble and roll onto the floor.