I remember shelling peas at my Granny and Granddad’s; picking the bulging pods off of the vines and popping them open to steal a pea for myself; or two or three, enjoying the burst of green flavor in my mouth.
I remember playing with friends in the neighborhood, climbing trees, finding treasure in creeks (cricks), forest floors, gardens; swinging as high as my legs would pump me, gumming up my hands and knees with pine sap; eating peanut butter & jelly sandwiches with cherry Kool-Aid.
I remember eating Chickadee Chicken fried chicken buckets when visiting my grandparents in Connecticut and spending the day at the beach, building sand castles, belly surfing, seeking shells; having hush puppies and frozen Charleston Chews for snacks.
I remember summer parish festivals with fried dough, grilled sausage with peppers and onions, music, strings of lights, games to win goldfish and plastic toys.
I remember days that lasted forever and nights of slumber parties and drive in movies. I remember making popcorn on the stove in a pan you had to shake and shove back & forth until the kernels were done. I remember getting awful nightgowns every year from Auntie Ann and Alice – which I never wore. I remember day dreams and imaginings.