Announcing a new Facebook Group and a new Blog


We have created a new Facebook Group called

The Childress (Texas) High School Classes of 1960-1966

Created for anyone from the Childress (Texas) High School classes of 1960-1966 who is looking to reconnect or connect with former friends and classmates.

If you are currently a member of Facebook or if you are planning to become a member of Facebook, we invite you to join the group. Contact either Nicki or Jennifer for information.

You are also invited to visit our new blog, Voices From the Class of '63,

Wednesday, June 4, 2008

A Taste of Summer

I was absolutely stunned when I realized that June had arrived. I mean really, in my mind we still have not closed May so how can it be June? Perhaps it all has to do with the fact that we did not have those April or May showers so the flowers are already looking sad and tired. Of course the fact that we have “enjoyed” three days of temperatures of over 100 degrees accompanied by searing hot winds and dirt could have something to do with it. I believe that it was 108 in Childress yesterday.

Both of our grandsons are out of school now and they are looking forward to a wonderful summer. Jordie and Jim have hit the golf course despite the weather, and Cole has just returned from a trip to Orlando where he enjoyed the hotel’s lazy river and trips to Disney World. Next week he is off to Cancun with his parents. When he is home, he has a great pool in the backyard. Jordie is still playing baseball and Cole is going to experience his first time in track. Despite all of this activity both boys are prone to becoming “bored” very easily when not engaged in something that they enjoy so we plan swimming trips, science camps and other activities designed to keep them entertained.


Cole's pizza shaped veggie and herb garden


I think back to my summers when I was in school and I remember so may lazy times spent reading while lying on my bed with the windows open and a cool breeze blowing through, and though I am sure on occasion my brothers and I were bored, we dared not express that feeling or we might find ourselves in the field chopping weeds in the cotton. Keeping us entertained had a far different connotation then!

When we were younger and still living on the farm in Muleshoe, I can still remember our Dad coming in from the fields at noon and dropping a watermelon from the garden in the irrigation ditch which was filled with icy water. Later in the afternoon he came home for a break. Out came the watermelon and we spent time in the shade of a big tree in the front yard enjoying this sweet treat and spitting seeds across the lawn. Most days he would also bring a large burlap sack of freshly picked corn and dump it on the lawn where we would all gather to shuck the ears and Mother would cook it for our dinner that night. By the way at that time it was supper because at noon we had a huge meal (dinner) that my mother spent hours cooking for the family and the “hands” in the fields. Rarely did a week pass without our dad pulling out the ice cream freezer (the kind you had to turn the crank) and treating everyone to homemade ice cream.

I realize now that summers were really hard on Mother. Cooking on a farm for multiple people, keeping house (I helped in the summers), ironing clothes for everyone, (remember starch not in a can), and in addition we always had a big vegetable garden which led to canning and freezing. To this day, I feel guilty if I don’t grow something edible in our garden. I have six tomato plants in the alley along with the flowers.

In the evenings we often spread a big blanket on the lawn and we would lie on our backs and watch the stars. I was awestruck at the sight of the Milky Way. Okay, you have to remember that we didn’t have television or a computer at that time, but it must have made a big impression on me as I still remember those moments very vividly.

There is no doubt that summer was a much less organized time with plenty of opportunities for us to just be kids free to roam and play. We lived way out in the country until I was a freshman in high school so a social life was not in the cards for us until we moved to town.

As we got older, I remember lots of summer evenings spent with friends dragging main and sitting at the Dairy Mart both in Muleshoe and in Childress. Sadly, I also remember the hours and hours spent lying out at the pool or in the backyard slathered in tanning lotion and at times baby oil and iodine so I could get a good tan. Needless to say those of us who engaged in this practice have paid a high price for vanity. On the other hand, I also remember that on those times that Mother took us to Clovis to swim, I always got to have a Snickers bar when it was time to go home.

Even now, with retirement, summer is still something to be savored for us. We do look forward to grilling the hamburgers, steaks, chicken and veggies. Well, actually we look forward to eating! There is always the ongoing debate about whether things taste better barbequed on a charcoal grill or grilled on a propane grill. However, it doesn’t seem to matter when it is time to eat. It is so great to gather in the backyard and on the deck when it is possible to avoid flies and mosquitoes.

With all this reflection on summers past and the great things we look forward to in our backyard in the summer, it occurs to me that perhaps we have a great recipe for taking a backyard vacation. Gas prices are high and the cost of everything has skyrocketed beyond reason. Maybe we can borrow some of the things that we loved most about summer and have a spectacular time for much less. Bring out the mosquito spray, the sunscreen, and the ice cream freezer (electric please). Fire up the grill, throw on the hot dogs and invite your favorite people. Don’t forget the blanket for star gazing. Perhaps a hammock for Jim for Father’s Day is in order. Of course, it has to be big enough for Jim, me and the 3 cats.

By the time summer is a reality, I hope that the weather will be much calmer and that we have been blessed with soaking rain to perk up the lawns and the gardens. Most of all I hope that we all take the time to remember and to share the joys and the taste of summers past, today!



Take me out to the ballgame. Jordie at bat

6 comments:

Jennifer Johnston said...

Nicki, your post is charming. It was good to hear about your grandsons, and I think you may be onto something with the "backyard vacation". But I particularly liked hearing about your summers when you (and we) were young(er). Your thoughts brought back some wonderful memories of my own ... of stormy springs segueing into somnolent summers ... of youth and light and life a long time ago....

For me, June always meant a trip to Colorado, followed by lazy, languid, liquid days at Fair Park Swimming Pool. I remember one year Linda Kay and I took both Advanced Swimming and Junior Life Saving. The first class started at 7:00 a.m. ... and even in Childress, even in summer, that water was COOOOOLD.

We'd stay at the pool all day, until it began to get dark ... although many times I would go back by myself in the evening for some solitary night swimming, a time of great peace and contemplation for me. I never sunburned ... just turned a richer golden brown as the days progressed. In the lambent light of memory, I can see Paula, the daredevil of the high diving board, fearlessly hurtling herself into air while we all watched with trepidation, sure that this time she had gone too far and would in fact break her neck. Still, even when her dives didn't work as well as she'd hoped, she managed to avoid being maimed and would always exit the pool with great panache. And I see the other girls ... Rae, Jobey, Pat, Linda Sally, Shirl ... drinking Cokes and laughing, looking around (and hoping someone ... male of course ... was looking back). When the heat waves rose too thick around us, we'd leave our hot towels on the concrete to fall beneath the cool, welcoming water .. and splash each other, and giggle and shriek in that piercing range of sound only teenage girls seem able to achieve. I cannot think of those days without being reminded of a stanza of No. 122, by Emily Dickinson:

"A something in a summer’s noon —
A depth — an Azure — a perfume —
Transcending ecstasy."

When I wasn't in the water, I loved reading poetry by the pool (and wherever else I could find time) ... Dickenson, of course, Sara Teasdale ("Barter" and "Because" and "Pity" and "Buried Love" and "If Death is Kind" and "Guenevere" ... too many to name), and Amy Lowell, who wrote of "Summer":

"To me alone it is a time of pause,
A void and silent space between two worlds,
When inspiration lags, and feeling sleeps,
Gathering strength for efforts yet to come.
For life alone is creator of life,
And closest contact with the human world
Is like a lantern shining in the night
To light me to a knowledge of myself."

The (seemingly) longest summer I can remember was the summer before our Freshman year. We were so excited and looking forward to starting at CHS ... and the summer seemed to go on and on.... I remember shopping for clothes at Saied's and Dakil's ... and then I think back wryly that then I never gave a thought then to what anything cost ... my grandparents were wonderful people, but definitely overindulgent.

My granddaughter Morgan (also a lover of poetry) will begin high school this year ... and schools and times today are a long way from those days that we enjoyed so long ago. Of course adolescents cannot totally avoid angst and hurt and heartbreak. But I do so hope that one day, when she is as "ancient" as I am, she will look back on these days of her life as being mostly filled with smiles and laughter ... and that she still has good friends from "her" time to enjoy the memories with her.

)O(

Anonymous said...

Nicki, I really enjoyed reading your blog this morning. With it being so hot there, I guess it would be rude of me to tell you that it snowed on the coastal range mountains last night, that we see from our living room windows or from the front of the house. And that the high here yesterday was in the 50's. Also, we don't have any of those pesky little critters that make life outdoors miserable.Also, the rain today is perfect. Just a fine mist on ones face. I am such a bad person, just had to rub it in. LOL Arlyna

We don't have dirt or wind here either.Now I am really bad. LOL

Nicki Wilcoxson said...

For those of you who might not know, Arlyna and her husband, David, live in Corvalis, Oregon. They are only 40 or so miles from the Pacific Ocean as well as mountains, and other wonderful spots for short weekend trips, including Seattle which is one of my favorite places. Google Corvalis to take a peak at her wonderful location. We envy her at this time of the year for sure. Of course, she doesn't have to be rude and gloating when she knows what suffering we are enduring right now! LOL
Thanks Arlyna for the comment. As always we treasure your visits each day to check out the blog!


Jennifer, thank you for reminiscing with me about summer time. I also envy your ability to avoid the sunburn and go straight for the tan!

Anonymous said...

Ah summer ... those "lazy, hazy, crazy days" that my dear friend Nat "King" Cole sang about!!!! And the Summer Solstice (a/k/a Midsummer's Eve ... see also Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream") ... this year on June 21, the longest day of the year.... Oh, I so fondly remember the White Nights with my dear Prince Felix Youssoupov in St. Petersburg ... until that messy business with Rasputin ... but I digress....

I know you're all getting ready for this one ... all that solar energy revitalizing the earth, yet in the turn of the moment signaling the beginning of the movement of darkness across the land, culminating in the Winter Solstice (my very fave, right after Samhain).... I hardly need remind anyone that Midsummer's Eve is one of the "spirited" fire festivals, when the veils between the worlds are thinnest....

For Druids and other enlightened beings, the Summer Solstice celebrates the "marriage" of Heaven and Earth (except in states where prohibited by law). The Solstices have been (and are!) celebrated not only by Druids and Celts, but by Egyptians, Aztecs, Native Americans and others.

Bonfires, revelers dancing around the flames wearing garlands (and sometimes very little else), with young men leaping through the tall flames ... not really a good time for trailing shirt tails..... A time to reflect on growth ... not only of seeds planted in the earth, but of our souls ... a time of cleansing and renewal and of joyous love....

Don't delay ... rush right out to gather your St. John's Wort, Vervain, Yarrow, Fern and Mugwort. Keep a sacred fire burning, and remember to burn your Winter Yule wreath at the bonfire. Exchange songs, stories and poems with others, dance, drum, drink (hic!) and vow to do something to improve life, as well as bring light and love into the world.

Sister Brigid ... see you on "our hill" at the appointed hour ... yes, you CAN afford a new frock (although I doubt you'll be wearing it long) ... lock up the livestock, bring the milkmaids and leave Bres at home with his mead ... and for Solstice's sake, somebody get a bodhran (Irish drum) message out to Blog. He's wandered away from his bridge again. He needs to know there will be lots of Shee ... and she ... there who will appreciate a fine, sensitive troll like himself ... particularly after a quaff or four....

Blessings....

)O(

Anonymous said...

I am frocked!!! Sourcing has begun to stockpile mead.

Anonymous said...

Hearing about other people's childhoods is always interesting to me. We moved around a lot when I was growing up so the stability and literal lifelong friendships that many of you share are a little foreign to me and I envy that more than a little bit. We spent a lot of my childhood moving around when I was elementary and high school. We spent the longest time, nearly ten years, in Galveston. Galveston didn't then and I'll bet still doesn't really consider itself part of Texas. It's an island, a seaport, a tourist destination, and well, you know just different from Texas. Just ask any Galvestonian and they'll tell you.

In Galveston the start of summer wasn't marked by school letting out, Memorial Day, the solar calendar, or even the woodchucks returning to El Paso. In Galveston summer starts on Splash Day. While basically a Chamber of Commerce invention, it wasn't just the start of the tourist season for us kids, it was it was Christmas in May. Time for the vendors to put out the rental umbrellas, the shop owners to re-spray paint the tropical sea shells in the tourist traps, and everyone to start selling every imaginable variation of rubber flip-flop. I was considered to be extremely lucky by my peers. We lived directly across the street from Stewart Beach or ground zero for Splash Day. My parents friends and their kids would come over to watch the parade from the relatively sober safety of our front porch. Beer has always been a vital ingredient of a good Splash Day.

The big event was the parade. Float after float, mostly pulled by pick-up trucks, decorated with all manner of sparkling tinsel and paper flowers. Each extravaganza was sponsored by some prestigious local institution like the Budweiser bottling plant and the local VFW. As might be expected the big attraction was lots and lots of pretty girls in bathing suits riding on the floats and tossing aluminum pirate doubloons, plastic beads and other trinkets to the literally screaming crowds. Some local celebrity was always Poseidon and rode the biggest float in an unbearably hot costume surrounded by "mermaids" ... tails a-flappin' while throwing treasure to all of us burning our white winter skin on the sidewalks.

Driving on the island that day was just for the out of towners. The crowds were huge, many streets were closed, and the island would have been flooded with college students there for a serious "PAR-TAY". Hotel rooms would be trashed, boys would risk their lives with every imaginable life threatening stunt they could think of and no one asked for an I.D. For a kid my age it was Mardi Gras, Barnum and Bailey, and birthday cake all rolled up in and tied with a bow.

The beach water was usually only tolerably warm but that stopped no one... well, no on under the age of twenty-five. I couldn't wait to grow up, get really drunk and be stupid. All things come to those who wait. Splash Day was probably one of the stronger formative experiences of my pliable little life in those days and probably explains a lot of the choices that I made in the coming years.