School's Out

* I wrote this last month as my husband was finishing up his school year.  It brought memories of my childhood when that was "the MOST wonderful time of the year".... At the time I wrote this, I was still locked out of my blog, but I was itching to make an entry.  I hope you enjoy it. ~Blessings~


Oh, the summer night
Has a smile of light
And she sits on a sapphire throne.
~Barry Cornwall

 School’s Out For the Summer~Alice Cooper

Albert Camus once wrote, in part, “...there lay within me an invincible summer.”  I’ve been thinking a lot about summer of late.  My husband, a high school, special education teacher, wound up his school this week.  Graduation is Saturday.  Today marks the end of the year for several of my teacher friends across the country. All the hustle and bustle of end-of-the-year protocol has reminded me of my own childhood, and what the last few days of school meant to me.    It was really just formality.  Standardized tests and finals had been completed, grades had been turned in and books given back.
The last day and a half of school was an easy coast to the finish line of the school year ~ the favorite part of the school year for me. ;-)  Yearbooks were given out and we spent the last 12 hours of school getting it signed by friends, teachers and office staff.  My mother worked as Administrative Assistant at the middle school I attended.   Sometimes, I rode the bus home from school, but not on that day.  The last day of school was special.  We got out at noon and my mother took me and my sister to Burger King for lunch.  It was tradition.  That lunch officially began the summer season for us.  It felt like the world was our oyster!
As we got into the car to head to the restaurant, the radio station, invariably EVERY year,  played the summer anthem of school kids everywhere in Jacksonville, Florida: School’s Out by Alice Cooper.  We rolled the windows down and rocked our bodies to the beat of the music as happy feelings took root.   Woo Hoo! It was summertime and SCHOOL WAS OUT!!! Those were three magical words to every kid’s ears.   The excitement rivaled Christmas Eve, and it’s hard to say which one won: getting a bunch of presents from Santa and family or having three glorious months off from classes, homework, studying and tests.  Honestly, though Christmas is my favorite time of year, I think the excitement over summer edged Christmas out just a tad.  Three months off from school versus two weeks.....kind of a no brainer!  Besides, gifts would be coming to me during the summer anyway, because that’s when my birthday falls.  It really was the best of times.
Mom, Pam and I sat in a booth and discussed our summer plans over whoppers, fries and Cokes.  It’s a treasured memory.  I can close my eyes and be transported back to that booth.  I can taste the burger, and the sweetness of the Coke and smell those crispy fries if I concentrate hard enough.   Sensory memory is such a blessed gift.
Over lunch, Mom asked us, just making certain that we’d gotten our summer reading list.
Uh....yeah! That was NEVER an issue for me, the bookworm.  Living 20 minutes from the beach, we spent a great deal of time there in the summer, and that was a good time to read.   There is nothing more blissful than being at the beach, hearing the sound of the waves, feeling the sun on your back and the heady fragrance of Hawaiian Tropic suntan lotion engulfing you in that lazy heat as you read a book. At least I utilized some of that “fun in the sun time” to get my reading in.  We played in the salt water and dove the waves, then we’d walk down to the boardwalk for a hot dog and a Coke.  I would always spend some of the time walking the beach looking for pretty sea shells.  But, I digress...
During lunch, Mom would talk to both of us about our summer plans.  Pam was a cheerleader and would have afternoons of practice before she spent a week at Cheerleading camp later in the summer.  Of course, we all went to church camp which was about an hour away from Jacksonville in Keystone Heights – that was mid-summer.  There would be endless hours of bike riding throughout the neighborhood and treks up to the 7-11 to buy an Icee.  The great thing about doing that was that you worked off the calories riding back home. :-)
In the early evenings, the ice-cream truck would come through the neighborhood, and Daddy always treated us a couple of times a week to an ice-cream, which is another treat that somehow always tastes better in the summertime.
There was the 4th of July cookout in the neighborhood and fireworks down at the Seaboard Coastline building then back home for homemade ice-cream.  This was back in the day when you had to use rock salt and the guys took turns at the crank.  Man, there’s nothing better than the taste of homemade ice-cream on a hot summer’s night!   I know I just stated that, but it bears repeating.  I feel sorry for kids of this generation because they’ve lost so much quality time socializing and playing as you patiently wait for the rock salt to do its magic and turn the liquid inside that metal container into ice-cream.  If you’ve never experienced it, it’s hard to explain.  But, if you’ve been a part of that outdoor gathering in a neighbor’s backyard, as everyone pitched in together—worked together to make that sweet confection for everyone to enjoy, it’s a hard thing to forget.
Also, during some of the summer days, we’d stretch the slip and slide [I’m dating myself, but who remembers those?] out in the backyard and the neighborhood kids would take turns running and sliding down that long piece of wet plastic. Lord, it was fun!  It didn’t take much to make us happy back in the days of my youth.  Simple pleasures.  We had them in spades, and isn’t that what life is REALLY all about?  Isn’t that what makes it truly worthwhile?
The days were endless and we filled every minute with play.  When night came, we’d watch fireflies spark flecks of light and ooh and awe over the wonder of it all.  If we were feeling especially inspired, we’d try to catch them in old mayonnaise jars.   I wouldn’t trade my childhood for anything in the world...
Our church also had a week called Daily Vacation Bible School that we went to every summer.  Our missionaries returned during that week and gave reports of what they were doing in the countries where they were serving.  They brought back stories and pictures.  It was fascinating.  We went to church every day during that week because there were all kinds of fun activities, music, food, fellowship and more play.
Around July, Mom packed me up and I went off to church camp.  Everyone was piled into a long  cabin-type room with endless rows of bunk beds and a bathroom with about a half dozen toilets and showers.  We took our meals in the mess-hall and spent the days in various Bible study classes.  Of course, there was an hour of canteen time each day where we could get a soda, ice-cream or a candy bar.  We had an hour of swim time in the lake.  At night, we had Vespers down at the lake, which was incredibly beautiful and after Vespers, we piled into the auditorium for fun night which consisted of games and skits as well as music.  There was no tv or phones.  Lights went out at 11, when we said our prayers and fell asleep to the sound of crickets chirping and fans humming. [There was no ac either.] The unsettling part of that week, if you could have an unsettling part, was the mail call after supper in the mess-hall each night.  Anyone who got three pieces of mail on that day had to sing a song.  I held my breath because my mother was just the type jokester who would do that to her children, and she did! But, the joke was on her when two of my postcards came on one day and the other one came the next. I was SO happy that I dodged that bullet!   She was so mad that the post office had screwed it up!  I was ecstatic! [As I’ve gotten older though, it IS pretty mind-boggling that three pieces of mail sent on the same day to the same person at the same address didn’t all arrive together...] I enjoyed the week of camp — making new friends from other churches, but was glad to get home to all its modern-day conveniences.
Then, there was the annual trip to Virginia to see my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  This was the motherlode experience of the summer and normally came in August so that me and my grandmother could celebrate our birthdays together.  The only sad thing about going away for a week is that we couldn’t take our dog with us.  I cried and cried leaving Mister, our Pomeranian, behind.   He didn’t understand why he couldn’t go, and I couldn’t explain it to him.  I carried the image of his sad brown eyes with me.
“Why can’t we take him?” I cried.
“Because the train won’t let dogs ride.”
“Why not?” I cried harder.  “He’ll be good.”
“He can’t go! That’s final.” the response came sterner, ending further discussion.
I remember vowing that when I became a grown up, I would NEVER leave my animals behind when I went on a trip, and we don’t.  Boo, our yellow naped Amazon traveled with us for years until he went to live at Ziggy’s Haven Bird Sanctuary in Florida.  Now, our puppies go with us wherever we go.  It’s just a non-negotiable for us.  They go with–period.
Back to Virginia.
We boarded the Amtrak train in Jacksonville and took it all the way to Richmond.  When we were little, we got a compartment with the bunk beds.  My brother and sister slept in the top bunk and I slept in the bottom one with my mother.   As we got older, we rode in the seats.  We spent a lot of time in the club car playing cards.  Mom would pack sandwiches and chips, Little Debbies and candy bars and we’d buy cokes.  The trip home was better because Nannie packed sandwiches and ham biscuits with chips, but SHE packed pie.  If she had leftover cake, that was sent with us too.
I’ve spoken of the farm before.  I LOVED visiting the farm~the sights and smells were heaven to me.  I think what I loved most about the farm was that my grandparents made us participants in all of the goings on.  We picked crops, sorted vegetables, shucked corn and shelled peas.  I got to gather the eggs from the henhouse.  My sister and I would take pails down to the patch of land designated for strawberries, blackberries, Damson berries and we’d pick one and eat two, laughing all the while.  We’d follow my grandfather down to the pig-pen everyday to “slop the hogs”.   It was a grand time!
I have never tasted food that bettered my grandmother’s — whether it be a bowl of vegetable soup, a piece of golden fried chicken, her mouth-watering, fork-tender pot roast, her pies with their flaky crusts, cakes that always rose perfectly, the fluffiness of her creamed potatoes with never a lump, the corn that was always sweet—it was always a banquet fit for a king or queen.  Sometimes, if I close my eyes and still everything else around me, I swear that my mind can conjure up the scents that defined her kitchen.  It was a wondrous, comforting fragrance.
When we were little, as previously mentioned in other posts, my sister and I would color at the Formica table, while Nannie prepped food or sewed.   The days were spent playing with our cousins, Eddie and Chris, or doing BIG chores like riding in the truck and going out to the fields to help my grandfather.  One day during that week, we met our old neighbors up at Westhaven [a local swimming hole] for a day of fun in the sun. [Story for another day.]
There was always an afternoon spent visiting my other grandmother.  I loved seeing her, but it wasn’t as much fun as Nannie and Granddaddy’s house because at Nannie Ocie’s, we had to sit in the parlor with the grown-ups and put our manners to use.  It was tedious work for little kids, but the visible joy it gave my grandmother to see us and visit, made it worthwhile - made the effort seem like not as much attempt as we initially thought it would be.
We also visited my father’s two sisters and their families.  I loved visiting Aunt Shirley and Uncle Ed because they didn’t have any children, and they made over me.  It’s not that they didn’t make over the others, but I was special to them.  It’s nice to be that kid to someone.  It’s nice to see an extra twinkle in their eyes when they look at you.  Then, there was a night spent at Aunt Betty and Uncle Emmet’s with my cousins Les and Eric.  Pam was the special one to my Uncle Emmet, primarily, I think because my uncle made most kids nervous.  I don’t know why it was? Demeanor, perhaps, or a certain look he had.  His eyes slanted upward a little, and it gave him a certain look that made him seem mad even though he wasn’t.  Pam wasn’t afraid of him, and that’s why he was partial to her.   His eyes that looked mad didn’t phase her — she’d just run to him and hug him regardless of that stare he had.  I was a little more leery.   He was my uncle, and he loved me.  I knew he’d never hurt me, but it’s weird the things that go through a kid’s mind when you’re little.  Once I got inside his hug, everything was alright, it was just getting there.  Fortunately, he never wanted my parents to force the contact, which I think is very important.  When you haven’t seen someone for a year – especially a child, it’s important to let said child ease into their comfort zone with an adult, even if it’s a relative.  My uncle understood that.  Once I got over that initial unfounded trepidation, you couldn’t get me out of his lap, unless a chocolate ice-cream cone was involved, and even he didn’t mind the disconnect for that reason!
Hmm.  Summer.  It’s a GREAT time of year!  Family. Friends.  Play. Relaxation.  Whatever is on your list to do this summer, I hope you have some hot fun as you do it!  I hope it involves at least ONE good book; at least ONE moment at the beach or lake; I hope you have an ice-cream on a hot summer afternoon and look for fireflies in the evening; I hope you spend time with a good friend — some family; I hope you have a cool slice of watermelon and an ear of grilled corn on the cob, at least once.  If there’s a fair in town, go.  Get some cotton candy!  Take in a blockbuster movie that only the summer brings and have some hot buttered popcorn to boot!  Sit around a campfire and make some S’mores even if it’s in your own backyard.  Whatever you do, don’t forget to take a nap in the lazy dazy heat of a hot summer’s day with a cool breeze blowing....oh, that’s the best.  If birds are chirping and bees buzzing in the background, all the better.  Make some memories!  In years to come, they’ll be part of the treasures that are kept safely in your mind.  It’s important.
School’s out now, and the sky’s the limit...


June 14, 2013