Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Westhill Times

The other night, I heard, for the first time this summer, the cicadas. When I hear that sound, I'm instantly taken back through time to my back porch in the house I grew up in on Westhill Boulevard. I can remember hearing the rise and fall of the cicadas from different areas of the back yard, like they were having a sing-off. That is the sound of summer to me.
That thought led into other childhood summertime thoughts. Roasting dinner over our fire circle in the back woods, swinging on my swing set so high that the right support always came off the ground, playing in my playhouse during the day, but never at night as my friends and I always knew some vagabond slept in it at night. Walking back through our woods, swinging on grapevines, all the way to the little pond. Picking sour cherries out of my brother Mark's cherry tree, and trying to figure out what to do with all of them. Having lunch on a blanket in the sun. Laying on the porch reading, for our quiet time after lunch every day. Taking 3 miles walks with my mom, and our dog, Rusty. Riding my bike to the feared swimming lessons. Mark's tree house building, and going with him to collect paper route money. And sometimes he would take me to Lehman's at the end of the street for a treat.

Bernadette Shenadingo. Laying in the big bedroom I shared with Lynne, and trying to fall asleep in the heat. Each of our beds with a blue gingham cat bed on it. Car trips out west, with me curled up on the floor, Mark and Lynne having convinced me it was the best spot. Reading Archie comic books while driving through Monument Valley, AZ. Dad tearing up at the sight of a majestic mountain, a trait he's passed on to me. Making breakfast at Huntington Beach or getting ice cream there at night. After dinner discussions about life, and who has to load the dishwasher tonight? Fireworks, picnics, tennis, and walks at Clague park. Bringing home the orphaned baby duck and then releasing it when it was older (and fighting about what it should be named). Practicing piano. Mom typing in the den. Hearing my Dad's desk chair squeak. Using the water pic. Lost and Tost (having to pay mom a quarter to get our things back that we didn't clean up).
Lynne's "Scott voice", and her sudden interest in the sports page when they started dating. Peering out the window to see what he was wearing when he came to pick her up, and then running to tell her so she could plan accordingly. Mark's many creatures, listening to Petra with him, his constant wrist flexing, and being awakened to Reveille when he was feeling impish. Walking to a parade at the end of the street.
I could go on. Dancing for my grandma at Christmastime, roasting hot dogs in the fireplace, trying to finish my dinner by a certain time with my Dad's watch next to me. Discussions about when that tree will fall down in the front yard. Jumping into leaf piles in the ditch.
I am thankful for a wonderful childhood. I hope my children will have equally great memories.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

I was totally thinking about you today! I was passing your Westhill house (actually on Hilliard) on my way to the Rocky River pool. I was thinking about slumber parties and riding bikes to the park and the 10 cent candy at Lehmans and playing games with your mom on New Year's Eve and dress-up. So many many many fun memories. I almost wanted to knock and ask if I could just walk through it. :) Jess Ney

Sarah Jane said...

I'm pretty sure its Very different now. I think I'd be sad to see it. I don't remember games on New Year's. Thanks for being in so many of my memories! I'm still not convinced that someone wasn't using the play house as a hotel at night.

Ruth Buck said...

I have wonderful memories of that house too when we visited - ALWAYS loved your/Lynne's bedroom! But I, too, have wonderful summer childhood memories. Thanks for sharing Sar!

Lynne said...

Loved, loved this post. I am so pleased to see that so of our memories are shared! I have to say that the sound of cicadas isn't something that takes me back to the screen porch, though. I definitely was afraid of the playhouse at night, though! :-)

The Mangin Family said...

What a neat post and I totally had and used a waterpik too. :)