...Homemade coleslaw. Potato salad. Bacon and lettuce (Gramp's favorite). Tomato salad. Tomato sandwiches (still my favorite) with tomatoes still sun-warm from the garden (I miss that most). Cucumbers with sour cream or oil and vinegar. Corn on the cob. Shelling peas. Blueberries, the darkest midnight blue and plump with juiciness.
...Walks to Carvel. Walking to church. Walking all the way to the far end of Perkins Street, past Chapel Street, past the change in the pavement, down the hill to "the Witch Doctor's house," spooky and made of stone.
...Dew-soaked lawn in the morning. Bare feet all day long. Hot-footing across the driveway, making the last leap into the cool grass. Running. Riding bikes. Playing catch. Paper dolls and playing school. Reading Rainbow. Invented games with brightly colored plastic playground balls. Combing the orchard on hands and knees in search of tiny wild strawberries.
...Baseball games in New Britain. Four-hour road trips to Cooperstown. Frequent trips to the library.
...Windows open all day and all night. Reveling in the lush, green world. Storm clouds gathering, the low rumble of thunder, quickly unplugging the organ and the television. Clover, purplish-pink and lavender-white. The big fan with the clear blue plastic blades, oscillating, back-and-forth back-and-forth. Songbirds singing the world awake. The busy hum of honeybees and bumblebees. The unpredictable flight of a butterfly, dancing on the unseen breezes. Fireflies twinkle-glowing over here, then over there, lighting the hush dark with sparks. Crickets and katydids chirping a lullaby.
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