Summer Child

{My skinny mini 1980's self enjoying my grandparent's sprinkler,
 just as much as my skinny mini 2010's self enjoys an empty pool, a rubber raft, a book and a cocktail.}

 

A few weeks ago, I was at my sister's.

Hangin' out, keeping watch over her littles.

The Dudes were out front,

cleaning up what in my mind was about to become a major disaster

involving a broken bucket, a push broom, and a pile of dirt in the driveway.

I had just taken E upstairs and was singing her to sleep with a cautionary tale about Brenda and Eddy.

Through the open window next to me I heard giggling

coming from the general direction I had left the boys sulking in.

The giggling kept getting louder and louder until it was directly under me.

And then I heard water running.

And shrieking.

And O yelling "Time tunnel! TIME TUNNEL!"

Just like the conductor on Dinosaur Train, his favorite.

I wasn't sure I wanted to know what was going on.

My curiosity eventually got the better of me, though, and I walked out to see two little boys,

hair dripping, wearing nothing but wet shorts and big goofy grins.

(They had gotten dirty sweeping up the dirt and had to hose each other off, of course.)

While I was drying O off and getting him ready for a nap a little later,

I asked him about the time tunnel.

His eyes got all twinkly and his grin once again got big and once again got goofy.

"It's nothing."

he told me, giggling.

And then he went to sleep.

But a few days later, I got it.

I had just turned on the hose to rinse something off.

As soon as that water hit the air,

I got it.

The smell of the sun and rubber-warmed water transported me back to so many

childhood summertime memories:

running through the sprinkler, "swimming" in a plastic wading pool,

and, of course, rinsing off the dirt of a hard day's play.

The hose was a time tunnel.

 Probably not the same time tunnel my three year old nephew was experiencing,

but no less magical.

xo

 

 

 

Summertime

I found myself watching Summertime the other night for the umpteenth time.

It never gets old.

It's one of those rare movies that gets everything right.

All of the breathless, gasping wonder that is Venice

The sights, the sounds, the magical light that shines over Italy.

(If you've ever been there, you know the light of which I speak.)

The still shots, lingering on every statue, bell tower, and facade you yourself would stop to photograph. The movie camera panning down the city's shadowed, twisting, turning alleyways before coming upon some majestic Venetian view, glistening in the sun.

And Katharine Hepburn is perfect, absolutely perfect, as an American seeing the magic that is Venice for the first time.

Walking around in wide-eyed, smiling wonder, camera in hand, breathing in every last bit of dolce vita.

I want to go back.

But this will hold me over...for now.

xo