tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post4872678298246408619..comments2024-03-18T09:09:59.625-04:00Comments on Janet Reid, Literary Agent: Vacation Day #5Janet Reidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00615380335938685231noreply@blogger.comBlogger44125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-77379152547283558262015-08-25T16:00:59.409-04:002015-08-25T16:00:59.409-04:00The summer after graduating from high school, beca...The summer after graduating from high school, because that was really the last time summer was <i>summer</i> for me, and I had the foresight to realize that and enjoy the hell out of it.D. B. Bateshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14726277195370623653noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-12812754908568997962015-08-25T12:25:48.128-04:002015-08-25T12:25:48.128-04:00During that summer, the flame in her eyes was the ...During that summer, the flame in her eyes was the subtle glow of chestnut over embers, not the mercurial flicker of emerald fire I'd chased so vainly. She was self-conscious, thought the downy hair on her nape and middle of her back was masculine, she was wrong, still I rationed those moments I'd trace those spandrels down her back with my fingers, to spare those sensibilities. I think I recall it was two years I'd aged during that fortnight, I stood a inch and half taller too. I shed the extra years in September but the extra height stayed with me. DeadSpiderEyehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07687178085803686186noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-25327499229210613002015-08-25T06:58:31.871-04:002015-08-25T06:58:31.871-04:00Summer of 1976... my first summer fighting fires w...Summer of 1976... my first summer fighting fires with the U.S. Forest Service. So many memories. Some good, some bad, but none will I ever forget.Linda Straderhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13651163529711298130noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55669891756028117992015-08-25T06:52:40.117-04:002015-08-25T06:52:40.117-04:00Lynn ; to add to the insult...my 5 sisters names a...Lynn ; to add to the insult...my 5 sisters names are Saskia, Stacia, Sabrina, Suzanna and Sara. They all start with s and end with a. My brothers name is Robert..and me Henry....oooof!<br /><br />Ces't la vie.<br /><br />Bonne journee, ma amie.<br />french sojournhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14262858704848580714noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-1535751832156664132015-08-25T06:13:04.265-04:002015-08-25T06:13:04.265-04:00Summer in England is a fleeting two weeks if you&#...Summer in England is a fleeting two weeks if you're lucky, though I seem to remember the weather being better when I was a kid!<br /><br />We'd go camping in Somerset for two weeks every year, from when I was 6 months old to when I was 16 and decided I was too cool for camping anymore (my parents went with my 2 younger sisters, leaving me and my brother 'home alone' for a fortnight - but that's a story for another time)<br />Most of those summers have morphed into one, but some favourite memories include lying under the trailer tent with a stack of my brothers Secret Seven books and reading them one after the other after the other, winning second prize at a fancy dress contest dressed as a bag of rubbish, getting thrown off a horse and nearly rolling off a cliff BUT being brave enough to get back on it again, and my first 'love' at the age of 13 - we ended up being penfriends for over a year.<br /><br />There's not much that beats childhood summer holidays - 6 whole weeks off school, we didn't know how good we had it!<br /> Laura Maryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/01604133412050870730noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-54631129824098376962015-08-25T05:22:00.643-04:002015-08-25T05:22:00.643-04:00Home for me is the beach, so I love summer. I love...Home for me is the beach, so I love summer. I love the white sand barking under my feet. I love to swim. I love big, thick summer books and the endless time to read them. I don't have those any more, but I still love them. <br /><br />Favorite summer memories: visiting cousins in Gautier, Mississippi when we lived way from the South. Aunt Jean and Uncle Harry lived on a point jutting out into the Gulf. Just about everyone there was related and had free rein of the woods, the swamp, miles and miles of playground. <br /><br />Summers in Fairhope, Alabama before we lived there, in an un-airconditioned house on a bluff overlooking Mobile Bay. I slept in a hammock on the top floor screened-in porch where I could hear the waves, feel the nreeze, watch the boats. Boiled shrimp and gumbo under the live oaks when we ran out of room in the house filled with so many friends.<br /><br />Summer at the University of Madrid. No beach but castles are fun too. A hot pink basement apartment off Hyde Park for a week while we explored London. <br /><br />Love summer. My dream is to have summers off again.CynthiaMchttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12175917641033760408noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-35838706194754835162015-08-25T05:16:56.088-04:002015-08-25T05:16:56.088-04:00Pffthahaha! Now I can't stop laughing at Hank,...Pffthahaha! Now I can't stop laughing at Hank, <i>et tu Googlus</i> and the idea of falling in elephant poo!<br />We mostly walked in cow pats when I was a kid. Then dad'd tell us how all the boys in his family used to deliberately step in 'em during the winter cos it was freezing and they never wore shoes (kept growing out of 'em apparently, and couldn't afford more). That would usually lead on to the stories about coming home after school dripping wet cos they'd been swimming on the sly, and singing "Blow ye wind southerly, southerly, southerly; blow ye wind southerly, so mum don't know!" in hopes that they'd be dry enough before they got home to escape a belting. Oh, and the fact that grandma once reefed a healthily-sized young sapling out of the ground to tan their hides when one of 'em hid the cane and they'd been VERY naughty :DAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-82125108872688045652015-08-25T00:33:41.804-04:002015-08-25T00:33:41.804-04:00OOPS! My REALLY bad.
The comma should have been a...OOPS! My REALLY bad.<br /><br />The comma should have been an end parenthesis.<br /><br />I wasn't nervous about posting that comment, now was I? :) Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-66358184637628355792015-08-25T00:21:51.258-04:002015-08-25T00:21:51.258-04:00OOPS! My bad.
Please ignore the extra comma after...OOPS! My bad.<br /><br />Please ignore the extra comma after "floor."Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-70973381304327060852015-08-25T00:18:20.256-04:002015-08-25T00:18:20.256-04:00The best summer I can remember was when my family ...The best summer I can remember was when my family went camping at Comanche Lake, way back in the late ‘70’s.<br /><br />Gone were the braces. Gone were the knobby knees and flat chest. Hello to curves in all the right places. Not that I realized any of that—that was until I donned the two-piece, hip-hugger swimsuit my mom surprised me with. Embarrassed about being seen in a state of nearly nakedness, I wrapped my beach towel around my hips, tucking it into itself at one hip, and headed toward the beach. Little did I know the towel did little to disguise my hips, rather it accented the very thing I tried to hide.<br /><br />The strangest thing happened when I reached the beach. Not one person, cute boys included, teased me, or acted as if I didn’t exist. In fact, I was invited to join in the fun—getting thrown off the tanning raft out in the middle of the swim section of the lake, sitting around telling ghost stories, laughing, having them laugh at and enjoy my stories. I belonged.<br /><br />That was the summer I gained the self-esteem I desperately needed, to hold my head high, and just be me. <br /><br />When school started that fall, as I walked the high school halls, heads turned my way, people stared. An inner glow shined from my smile and eyes (no longer focused on the floor., I felt it and knew others did too. After that, I was never, ever bullied again.<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-66032210819587209882015-08-24T19:51:44.189-04:002015-08-24T19:51:44.189-04:00Omg, A.J. Cattapan - That is just FANTASTIC!! Omg, A.J. Cattapan - That is just FANTASTIC!! Gingermollymarilynhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15684318210445109786noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-19030824173865026772015-08-24T19:18:27.363-04:002015-08-24T19:18:27.363-04:00Donna: Latin, so et tu, Google? Which, if we presu...Donna: Latin, so <i>et tu, Google?</i> Which, if we presume the Latin for the search engine is <i>Googlus</i>, works since the vocative form would be <i>Google</i> (pron. Goog-lay)!<br /><br />Class dismissed. ;)Colin Smithhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03292997431935215499noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-11976762539920798982015-08-24T18:56:21.893-04:002015-08-24T18:56:21.893-04:00Or, is it et tu?
Like all right, and alright, I...Or, is it et tu? <br /><br />Like all right, and alright, I've seen both.Donnaevehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09026536210749494257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-23751940139359960912015-08-24T18:54:56.133-04:002015-08-24T18:54:56.133-04:00Et tous Google? Et tous?
Hank. Oh. Good. Lord....Et tous Google? Et tous?<br /><br />Hank. Oh. Good. Lord. Talk about stink, stank, stunk!<br /><br />And, Kate, I just had to look this up: Kaiteriteri = heaven.Donnaevehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09026536210749494257noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-40129915263184552462015-08-24T18:35:52.199-04:002015-08-24T18:35:52.199-04:00Hank, your story is hilarious! And I love that you...Hank, your story is hilarious! And I love that your sisters have such exotic names, Stacia and Saskia and your name's Hank. No offense, but it seems to me your name should be Starskos or something like that. Then too, you start your story with your parents getting divorced and they decide to move to Portugal. More couples should do that; a pilgrimage to Fátima perhaps?<br /><br />Honestly, <i>la cerise sur le gâteau</i> is your sailor suit and your downfall. What a wonderful story! Thanks for sharing.<br />LynnRodzhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10796099106913990163noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-59563724091626433342015-08-24T18:13:35.231-04:002015-08-24T18:13:35.231-04:00Probably last summer when I pulled an "Eat, P...Probably last summer when I pulled an "Eat, Pray, Love" and ran off to Italy to study Italian. The trip changed my whole approach to life. A.J. Cattapanhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14568787801458618845noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-25851226340673046422015-08-24T17:48:39.769-04:002015-08-24T17:48:39.769-04:00When I was six, my folks got a divorce, so we move...<br />When I was six, my folks got a divorce, so we moved to Portugal for a couple years. My dad was Chief engineer on a Freighter, and his main port was Lisbon. We lived in a nice neighborhood in Cascais, close to Estoril. <br /><br />Anyway, so one day all seven of us piled into my dad's commandeered old Porsche 356a hardtop. (He got a great deal on it because the original owner blew the engine and swapped in a VW microbus 1600cc engine.) Well my mom drives us to the local circus that had arrived in town the night before. I'm six and wearing a dainty little sailors suit. I even have pictures to prove what parents do to amuse themselves. <br /><br />We make our way to the circus and meander around a bit, and it is decided that my sisters Stacia and Saskia want dearly to ride the elephant. The three of us get on this huge magnificent creature. Stacia in front, Saskia in the middle (youngest) and Hank in the back. <br /><br />Well Simba hasn't taken more than a half step, when Saskia does a five year olds freak-out. She tries to get off the Elephants back, and in turn ends up pushing me back a couple feet. I should mention at this point that we were at the starting point of the lap that was a quarter mile long...and our complete ride. This is the same point where the elephants had been ..let's just say what it is...pooping.<br /><br />Cut to six year old Hank landing feet first into a three foot high pile of, when they finally extracted me from the substance I was minus one small sailors shoe. Then they hosed me down, and the remainder of the day lil swabby was trailing behind the family absolutely livid. <br /><br />And for some reason that was my favorite summer.<br /> french sojournhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14262858704848580714noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-90776248563881222372015-08-24T17:27:18.030-04:002015-08-24T17:27:18.030-04:00*shakes head* oh Google. *sighs**shakes head* oh Google. *sighs*Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-55672933881500129892015-08-24T17:16:48.653-04:002015-08-24T17:16:48.653-04:00Off topic, but interesting given yesterday's d...Off topic, but interesting given yesterday's discussion - I just did a Google search for "Is it all right to put coffee grounds down the drain" and Google corrected my question to "Is it alright..."Adelehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08790958029798438793noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-45154809443326868012015-08-24T16:47:25.072-04:002015-08-24T16:47:25.072-04:00When I was 10 (almost 11) I was deemed sufficientl...When I was 10 (almost 11) I was deemed sufficiently grownup to deal with my idiosyncratic grandparents and I was sent from Syracuse, NY to Grafton, MA to spend several weeks with them before heading to the family summer place in the Northeast Kingdom (Vermont). <br /><br />My grandmother found a group of girls for me to play with. They were all one year older and our first meeting conversation was like this:<br /><br />"Mary, did your parents give you a potty for graduating 6th grade?"<br />"Yeah. It was great. A lot of friends came to the potty."<br />"I got a potty too."<br />"Me too. That was fun. I'd like another potty soon."<br /><br />I was mystified. What would be so much fun about receiving a toilet as present, why so many people would like to come and use it together, and why would this be a custom that lots of families did in Grafton? What kind of berg was this place? <br /><br />After I figured out what they were talking about, we went to Mary's tool shed where there were stacks and stacks and stacks of her father's Playboy magazines. This was a fascinating aspect of impending womanhood I had never considered.<br /><br />Mornings were spent "reading", learning to double dutch jump rope, and other mischief. All unsupervised. Afternoons we went swimming at a lake that I (mis)remember as Kit Kat with clear water the color of copper.<br /><br />Finally we headed to Vermont, first stopping off at my grandfather's work where he officially retired. On a machine that magnified things, he showed me that you can see Lincoln sitting in the Lincoln Memorial on the back of the penny.<br /><br />My grandmother didn't like to drive more than a couple of hours. We stopped for the my first night ever in a hotel in White River Junction, Vermont. It was a huge Victorian thing with a massive wrap around porch, overlooking the Connecticut River.<br /><br />The next day we made it to Caspian Lake, home base for the rest of the summer. Just before my 11th birthday, I swam across the lake, which in our family was required to prove you didn't need to wear a life jacket when sailing or fishing. <br /><br />An eventful summer.Susan Alice Bickfordhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/04589613998841757711noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-14585131194146692492015-08-24T16:29:13.200-04:002015-08-24T16:29:13.200-04:00I LOVE summer. I live for summer. It is always too...I LOVE summer. I live for summer. It is always too short.<br /><br />All of those childhood summers were wonderful: catching fireflies, playing kickball in the street, drinking Koolaid.<br /><br />My favorite grown-up summers were the ones during graduate school--nearly 3 months of research and/or writing.Theresahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18165072684559960801noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-38074236890499002302015-08-24T14:37:34.252-04:002015-08-24T14:37:34.252-04:00Definitely the summer I trained at Shakespeare and...Definitely the summer I trained at Shakespeare and Company. <br /><br />There were some difficult parts, but I received training on story, life, theater, hard work...saw amazing actors in some of the best plays ever written, learned to use a broad sword (my partner and I liked to practice in the public park). <br /><br />I got to spend an entire summer doing what I loved best in life, single-mindedly. <br /><br />If I could one thing back from my childhood, it would be that single-minded focus. I don't know how to do that in my current life. I feel like I've forgotten - even when I get away for a few hours my mind wanders like an untrained puppy. I don't know how to relearn it, and I'm scared I can't. <br /><br />What's worse, I don't know what to focus on. RachelErinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/09510327163701754950noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-53394766989666305432015-08-24T14:36:30.185-04:002015-08-24T14:36:30.185-04:00My family have a beach house in one of the most be...My family have a beach house in one of the most beautiful spots in the world (Kaiteriteri) so every summer we've spent there. It's the perfect place to relax because there's very little cell coverage or internet so you have to switch off and get away from everything. The sand is golden, the sea warm and there are a ton of things to do within an hour's drive of the house.Kate Larkindalehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06202347563426692610noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-86968382313209077622015-08-24T14:21:33.301-04:002015-08-24T14:21:33.301-04:00Best summer ever, oh my I have had so many awesome...Best summer ever, oh my I have had so many awesome summers. <br /><br />But, the summer my heart drifts back to most often, when I need a fix of visual and emotional perfection, is actually two summers back to back, mid-'60s.<br /> <br />Teton Mountains in Wyoming. <br />I feel as connected to the mountains as I am to the sea. There is no more beautiful place on earth, or one which holds such a huge part of my soul, as the Teton Range. I lived a former life there, of that I am convinced.<br />Now I am in tears, remembering how awestruck I was and how humbled I felt as a teenager back then. It actually became the setting for my first (shelf) novel. <br />I always wanted to go back but never did. Maybe I shouldn't because one thing I have learned over these many summers, is that going back messes with the perfection of pleasant memory.<br />God, it was just so damn beautiful. <br /><br />Carolynnwith2Nshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18394998702410764388noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17040756.post-61804232565134013072015-08-24T13:41:40.264-04:002015-08-24T13:41:40.264-04:00What fun to read everyone's experiences.
Th...What fun to read everyone's experiences. <br /><br />This summer was excellent, fun vacation and lots of work finished. Work feels like vacation most of the time but the beach and the côte de Province rosé were well enjoyed. <br /><br />After reading BJ's comment I thought about a summer spent on Block Island, the year between freshman and sophomore at Maryland Institute College of art. It was the first time I ate grilled sea scallops, and the first summer away from home. I had this pair of white loafers that accompanied through the debauchery.angie Brooksby-Arcangiolihttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08000615140577512304noreply@blogger.com