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Monday, May 10, 2010

Take a Trip Down Memory Lane

You know, sometimes one of the best ways to conjure up a good story is to slip back into your childhood for a few minutes. Most of us have childhood memories about special places we visited in the spring or summer. One of my favorite memories is being allowed to take two of my best friends to my grandmother's farm in late spring.

As I recall the story I can still smell the last of the lilacs that clung to the bushes in her yard. I can taste the strawberry shortcake that she made for us every single meal...yes EVERY SINGLE MEAL!

I can hear the laughter that my friends and I shared while sitting on Nona's upstairs deck reading magazines that we found tucked under her bed...TRUE ROMANCE. We felt a guilty pleasure that was unmistakably the highlight of our trip.

And as I recall these memories, a feeling of being an adolescent again comes over me. I want to write. How about you? Do you have a memory of a special trip or place you visited when you were young? What's your memory like?

Oh! before I forget it, my sister-in-law has a terrific website for real travelers. Go take a peek! Her adventures are only a click away!

7 comments:

Petula said...

The memories I hold onto are of those I have of my father who died when I was about 10 years old. It's interesting how my memories are in a perspective of a child since that's as far as they go... I love "seeing" them and thinking about the times I road in his 18 wheeler, went to the store with him or road in his pickup truck. I remember wrestling with him and my brother on the floor and getting in trouble!

When I think of hunting or someone mentions it I recall how my father participated in every season. I taste the meat of every catch or kill, and remember what I like and don't like.

Childhood memories can evoke such amazing and fascinating feelings that are intensified by the increased vocabulary and knowledge of adulthood.

Tweedles -- that's me said...

I remember a day at a fair. I was standing with my two sisters and my parents as the ponys went around in circles.
The red and black painted pony looked the fastest to me, and that was the one I wanted to ride.
Up and down the ponys went, and my mind raced just knowing I had the fastest pony of all.
Racing as fast as the painted ponys legs would go, we flew, we jumped.
When the ride was over, I remember my mom and dad waiting for us girls. I did not want to leave my fast pony. There was only one thing to do and that was capture that memorie in my heart. Today, I can still feel the rhythm of that red and black pony, and I am still thankful my parents let me ride the red and black pony.

gaelikaa said...

Ireland - particularly Dublin, where I'm from - has a great reputation for seafood, particularly shellfish, which I actually dislike.

I remember a seaside holiday when I was four years old. A gang of us collected white cockles, blue mussels and black winkles in our seaside toy buckets. Back at the base, the cockles and mussels were boiled in water and they opened up to show the meat inside. My companions feasted on the cockles and mussels and attacked the uncooked black winkle shells (which resembled tiny snail shells) with pins and feasted on these items like delicacies while I, all of four years of age, looked on aghast! Eww! I've never touched shellfish. Not then and not ever!

Kas said...

My memories are of watching the clouds form in the sky. Then they would gather into a fantastic display of lightening and thunder. Safe in the farn shed I would watch the rain pelt down.

When the rain was finished my brothers and I would float down the creek pretending to be driving racing cars.

Sandy said...

Checking back to see how your computer troubles are coming along. Odd, I know I left a comment here yesterday; but it's not here. Not even sure now what my comment was.

Hoping your computer troubles have passed.

Sandy
Got a new travel post for all to enjoy, thanks for the link. I've been posting memories about Mom on my personal blog, memories are a wonderful thing to hold onto.

Carolyn said...

Interesting stories!

As a child of eight I was sent to Switzerland for several weeks with a bunch of other kids. We stayed in the Jura Mountains. It was not a particularly happy time as I was homesick, but there are two nice memories I have. The first was the swiss chocolate, of which we were allowed five small squares a day as long as we ate the scratchy brown bread (without butter) first. Delicious!! The other memory was that the cows actually did have big bells around their necks!

Tweedles -- that's me said...

I remember first grade.
I remember my teacher reading The Tales of Peter Rabbit.
That was also my very first book. It was a Christmas present.
I remember how the book smelled.
I remember the hard blue cover.
I remember it was only about 6 inches in height.
I loved the story.
I loved being read to.
I loved the stories about those rabbits, and I still do.

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