Blogging My Autobiography - Chapter 3

Summertime. For most people the word conjures up a lot of good memories and feelings. My preference is Winter and Fall, but as a child, Summer brought some special opportunities for play and mischief. When I was 5 years old, we moved to what would become my childhood home. The street was about two and one half blocks long and had 13 houses on my side of the street. There are 14 now, but one of those is relatively new. It was built on land that was part of an orchard that surrounded the neighborhood. What a great thing the orchard was! We could climb trees and, depending on the season, eat cherries, apricots, pears, peaches and apples into the fall. Many times I ate myself sick, mostly on green pears. They were so crunchy, I still like them that way. I am sure that old man Bangerter would have been upset with us if he had known, but maybe he did and tolerated us kids in the trees. We didn’t eat that much and I still have a healthy love of fresh fruit. I can tell which trees are which, even today because of those experiences.

Other things grew in the orchard, and rhubarb was one of them. We would break off a stalk and chew it. It was sweet and very sour at the same time.

Climbing trees always has an element of danger. One day that I remember quite vividly, my friend Diane and I were climbing in our favorite apple tree. It was a large one, right on the corner of the orchard and you could see a ways down the street from it’s heights. We got a little too high and Diane slipped, losing her balance and falling to land on her back at the base of the tree. I remember her falling, her long blonde hair streaming around her face which held a look of abject terror and complete surprise until she hit. I have since seen many movie scene where people fall off of our out of buildings, trees, etc. This looked exactly the same way, all in slow motion. After she landed everything seemed very quiet. I asked her, my voice quivering, “Diane, you OK?” She blinked once, then twice and managed to say, “I think so.” I climbed down as quickly as I could and she managed to roll over and breathe easier. Never broke a thing, just had the wind knocked out of her. We can thank the soft earth around the tree and the thick grass that grew in the orchard. Thank heaven, Bangerter was diligent about his plowing.

Summer also brought games of kick the can that lasted into the late twilight. It was the best time to play because you could hide closer to the can. Other activities included sleeping out. As in sleeping out under the stars. Inside the house, it was often hot and close. Being a person who prefers it cold, sleeping outdoors was a welcome respite. We would all gather out sleeping bags and set up some old army cots. The cots were the ones that had legs that looked like an X when they were opened and you stretched the canvas with two cross bars on the end. Quite comfortable once you got them stretched. We would then lay on top of our bags and stare at the stars. You could see them from my backyard in those days. They were brilliant and all the constellations were known by us. Sometimes we would make up our own stories about the stars, just like kids did for thousands of years before us. It was a quiet time I relished. One time, I swear, we say a UFO. No star moved that fast and no planes made right angle turns like that. Believe it or not!

No description of summer in our neighborhood would be complete without Chilleroos. Chileroos were the brainchild of my next youngest brother and his friend. We all participated. Chilleroos were made from Kool-Aid and I think Jello flavoring, frozen in a paper cup. I don’t remember the recipe exactly, but they were tasty. They came in a couple of flavors like cherry and lime, and one year we made multilayered Chilleroos. We walked the streets with the frozen goodies in our wagon on hot Saturdays when people were working in their yards and made a killing. It was all about delivering a good product and the right time. Nothing chilled like a Chilleroo on a warm summer afternoon. 25-cents a pop!