Snapshots of Summer

[Previous Rural Farmgirl, April 2009 – May 2010]
There is something magical about summer. It seems that there is a mystical rhythm to it that presents itself in the slight breeze, reminding me of those carefree days of childhood. I never desire to go back in time until these moments. But the gentle wind makes me miss the innocence of looking into the garden without knowing how much work they actually are.

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  1. suzy says:

    As kids , my sister and I would spend a week at my Grandpa’s farm. during the summer. When Mama And Daddy would come to pick us up (sooner than we wanted) my Mama said we were barely recogizable. We would eat watermelon fresh out of the field and then roll down a sandy hill behind the shelter belt. Well, You can imagine what we looked like.My Grandma would wash us off the best she could for the ride home. My grandparents didn’t have indoor plumbing until the last place they lived before they passed away, so water had to be pumped and heated to bathe.We thought it was a blast! These kind of memories are so clear in my mind (but I probably couldn’t tell you what happened yesterday)That just goes to show you what’s really importent in life.I hope my grandkids remember the great times they’ve spent with us at our country home this summer,I know I will. Love to all, Suzy (Texas)

  2. Charlotte says:

    Rene,

    Again, you have captured the essence of something that we all strive to hold onto! I was just thinking yesterday as I was watching my daughter at her horse riding lessons how there is such a special feel to summer. Maybe it is the warmth of the sun, the feel of the earth when you can just lay in the grass, or the smell of the fruits when the canning is started. Who knows, but I wouldn’t trade a minute of it. Thanks again for the wonderful entry! You make my heart sing every time I read your entries. Enjoy the rest of the summer…..it flies by far too quickly!

  3. Gary says:

    I LOVE your walks down Memory Lane Rene’…!
    Your photo of the wheelbarrow remind me of our tool shed, and I sometimes picture it in my mind… scythe hanging on the wall… old push mower… stuff I had no clue about all around, and the smells… that place had a uniqueness about it… cut grass waifting in the air and the scent of oil from the squeeze can… and earth… the scent of the red dirt floor…
    I understand your Boy’s JOY with his bike… I rode every Country road for miles around… pavement, gravel, dirt. My Mom and Pop were wise, and when the Teacher sent a note Home that I hadn’t learned my multiplication tables, they told me that when I could sit at the Supper table and recite them, they would buy me the 3 speed English Bicycle I had wanted for so long. I was riding that bike the next week… *WINK*…
    Snapshots in our Memories indeed.
    GodSpeed to Y’all…!
    Gary
    in Tampa

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