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Claudia Singletary

Claudia Singletary

In the Good Ole Summertime

It would start with the 3-4 inch tall white clover flowers that we girls would pick and make chains of during recess in April and May starting in 3rd or 4th grade.  Who you gave that necklace to was most important.  It was a symbol of deep abiding friendship ….. until the next afternoon when you gave the bracelet or laurel you made that day to another “best friend”.  The fragrance of those little weed-flowers is enough to take me back to sitting outside in the spring sunshine with friends who I still know and cherish, and the unwelcome feeling (and scent) of going back inside to the unairconditioned classroom.  

Next came that Last Day of School feeling.  Anything was possible for the next 3 months.  As I was growing up in a small town with authoritative parents, anything actually wasn’t possible, but it felt like it was.  

The next things to look forward to were mornings playing in the neighborhood and quiet moments (as my mother enforced a quiet time in our rooms after lunch) of reading.  Charlotte’s Web was the first book I read where I cried over a less-than-happy ending, and it was on a hot summer afternoon.  To be sure, I didn’t appreciate the quiet times so much then, but I certainly understand now why she needed them.  That morning we would’ve tried to talk her into taking us to the pool in the afternoon, and if we succeeded that was next, basically 2 – 4 p.m.  If not, there was always playing in the sprinkler.

Friends were plentiful in our neighborhood, and my parents knew the families for the most part.  It wasn’t quite the “go play outside and don’t come home ‘til supper” scenario since I had to call when going from one yard to another, but close enough for that delicious sense of freedom.

The library was a mile away from our house.  Given the safety of the times and the town, I often rode my bike there during jr. high years and came home with the front basket full of new books, new friends.  

Sleeping well is a sweet memory too.  It was healthy, uncomplicated, safe play that made one happy to stretch out and look forward to tomorrow.  

Time and place was different, but I did what I could to give my children at least a taste of that.  They climbed trees, swam for many hours, and learned that “Books are our friends.”  And I’m treasuring seeing pictures of my grandchildren enjoying those same sweet summer sensations.

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