Summers gone by

It’s summer. Maybe I didn’t pay much attention because the weather in Montana hasn’t really been all that “summery” until recently or maybe just because I’ve been too busy. Regardless we are half way through July.  I’ll be honest, summer really isn’t my favorite season. It’s hot and there are bugs and in Montana we get forest fires which means smoke. But I do have some favorite memories of being with my grandparents and some favorite foods that always just seem better in summer, like bratwurst, watermelon and a pretty simple pasta salad made with tuna, peas, celery and mayo. It’s about the most basic dish you can make but as it sits in the fridge it gets better. Is it because its cool after a long day and its ready to eat I don’t have to heat up an already warm kitchen? Who knows. But it’s a favorite in our house. There are lots of different foods to bring up thoughts of summer but that dish is my favorite.

Speaking of summer memories we used to camp a lot with my grandparents when I was younger and just the smell of a campfire brings back memories of sitting around a fire trying to listen to the stories and the “gossip”  that were equally going on around me. My grandparent’s camped with a group and also alone but they seemed to know people where ever we went and we went a lot of places around Michigan. We had a routine when we were camping. My grandma would wake us all up and take us to the camp bathroom to wash our faces and brush our teeth then she would bring us back so we could eat breakfast. After that we helped clean up, got dressed and then she kicked us out of the camper, but not before spraying us quite liberally with bug spray and skin-so -soft. Then we had to go out and play or run around. She didn’t care what we did while she cleaned the camper as long as we came when she called and if she looked she could still see us. By then it was mid-morning and we went exploring around whatever area we were at. We came back for a late lunch and then it was nap time. Not for us, but for my Grandpa. By the time he had a little catnap it was time to get the campfire going and help with dinner. It was the after dinner part that I looked forward too. After helping clean up, then taking a shower, then my grandma would get us a dressed for bed. We didn’t have to go to bed yet though, now was the time for sitting around the campfire and that generally meant she was going to let us roast marshmallows for s’mores or she would make us wilderness pies. I always thought they were called that because of the way she made them which was 2 pieces of buttered bread, with pie filling of some sort put into this weird square, hinged contraption that went in to the fire coals. As I got older I realized she called them wilderness pies because that was the type of pie filling she used. After our dessert the adults would come by and chat with my grandparents or my grandpa would just tell us stories. It was the best time of the day.

We not only camped with my grandparents but we spent a lot of time at their house as well. My grandma tried hard to keep us outside and occupied. It was easy because they lived at the end of dirt road and there wasn’t a lot of traffic so we could ride our hot wheels and tricycles and eventually our bikes. One of my favorite memories is the slip and slid that my grandma would put out. They didn’t have a big hill but it was enough for my brother and I and my cousins. Looking out my window at the bright blue sky of summer makes me wish I could be a kid for one more summer of carefree times. One more summer of camping and playing at my grandparent’s. One more summer of my little brother being my best friend but also a big pain. One more summer with those that have gone. I may not get my wish but I will always have my memories. And who knows, maybe I can convince my brothers and sister to get together for a campfire and stories sometime in the near future. ♥