Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label memories. Show all posts

Friday, July 1, 2016

Popcorn and Ice Cream


     Summer thoughts......

     It has been hot and with the heat my thoughts swept up a memory of my parents second home in Diablo.  A whim of a purchase but for those brief years they owned it, which was mere miles from our home, we shared quite frankly, the best of times together.

    My mom and Papa "let their hair down", so to speak.   They dressed casually, which for my mom was quite a feat!  Even her casual slacks and "t-shirts" were designer but there was less jewelry and though she didn't wear sandals she wore her Daniel Green slippers, gold or silver, without hose.  Papa somehow managed to have old worn pants.  Who knows how he was able to hold onto them without my mom throwing them in the trash.  Add a polo shirt, comfy slip on shoes and he puttered around the house tending the yard and pool.

    Yes they had a home with a pool and he habitually would fuss with the equipment or cleaning the pool of leaves.  Best yet was blowing up pool floats for the girls to play upon.  Of course the girls were excited, giggly, squabbling, loud, generally being kids at a pool, but this wasn't any old pool, it was their Nana and Papa's and nothing was better!  There was a float of a dolphin, a whale, a giraffe, a bear, rings big and small and the brightest colors of these toys she could find.  There were diving rings, diving sticks, and classic diving for coins as well as games of Marco Polo.  The pool wasn't huge by any means yet somehow toys, kids and parents fit just fine.




    My mom even donned a swimsuit from time to time which was a rare event.  No splashing as she waded in and waded out then off to a chair in the shade to watch over her family.  Papa would float lazily on his back from end to end of the pool, his belly floating above the pool level.

    When children swim and play they get hungry and Nana always had snacks.  But what stands out in my memory was the Jiffy Pop Popcorn she would faithfully bring out.  Not done in the microwave but the classic one in the aluminum pan that you would shake constantly across the burner of the stove and watch it balloon out till the popping stopped.





     That simple snack brought back memories of my own childhood!  We would all dig in like hungry vultures to the last kernels.  I'm not sure if popcorn is a typical pool snack but it was what we had along with Pepsi Cola, Root Beer or 7 Up to wash down the salty flavor.

     Papa bought an ice cream maker one year for a summer party they had.  I went out back to help him and learned a bit about making home made ice cream.  It was electric that you added the ice and salt while it churned and churned.  I've never had better ice cream than fresh made that day.  He and I brought the bucket into the kitchen once it was thick and creamy where my mom would busily scoop out the ice cream into smaller containers for the dessert later.  Papa and I  proceeded to scrap off the soft, creamy ice cream from the plastic blade with our fingers over the kitchen sink, making sure nothing was left and wanting more.
   
   

Friday, February 26, 2010

Dreaming of Wildwood


Dreaming of Wildwood


There was a home 
where I was wed ...





A magical home when you
entered it's gates... 

Through rooms that voices still resonated
 from the family who loved it
so dearly
 but whom had to leave.
Where they grew up
with a family that filled each room.
With laughter and tears, 
hide and seek, running up and down
it's gilded stairs. 

To belong now to a family of two
that would fill it's rooms with the 
sound of jazz music, an organ and the
swirling sound of a water color brush
casting images of barns, 
ocean and beaches.





My parents nurtured it's
rebirth to splendor
in time for ...

My wedding to be,
 only months after they bought 
 their dream home, 
in the rear courtyard garden
amongst dear friends and family.

I slept there but only one night 
wondering who's room I might be 
dreaming in....
To gaze out the multi-paned 
rippled glass to see where I would
say my vows to my Love....

I threw my bouquet
of white roses and baby's breath
from the small balcony
above the massive front door.
I felt like Juliet looking down...
My dream come true that day.







This home my children played
and explored in, 
where the doors opened to soft breezes 
and the 
fountains mimicked their
sweet, high voices as they dipped 
there tiny toes in the pool below.

Where taking the narrow, hidden staircase
would lead to a secret room that
was the old wine cellar.  

Where slumber nights at Nana and Papa's 
house was a time of tea parties,
make believe with dolls 
and bubble baths in
 the huge old bathtub off the
room they slept in.







Eva
She who sleeps in beauty....
We were all entranced by her.

She was always there in the garden 
outside the courtyard. 
Through the old wood gate you 
opened on to her boudoir
where she napped unselfconsciously
in her nakedness
for us to admire and touch.







A story was told that one of the young sons
who played in this garden 
once painted her nipples green....
His father was not happy 
and the young boy washed
and rubbed the paint away
till Eva was pure once more.
He became a priest when he grew up.







My heart broke when
my parents sold Wildwood.
I had dreamed of my
daughters three
wedded in the gardens...

Now I can only pause as I
drive by to remember
in my mind the joyful days
spent here.

Eva...
She moved next door
to live in a new garden
where she is loved as
we loved her.

Wildwood's windows
are closed...
as though whoever lives
there now doesn't wish
her to live as she did.
Why?

Her gardens so overgrown
that the yard is shrouded
in bush and growth like
a Sleeping Beauty Castle.

The gazebo is gone...
where my daughters would 
play as they skipped
on the large round steps
that would lead to the 
rose garden their
Papa tended with care.


My heart is there...

 Some homes
always are joyful.
They are full of a spirit
that comes from the happiness
that happened there.

My heart is there...


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