Summer Tastes Bitter Sweet

The brown squirrel still taunts me. Just like the taunting thought of what summer camp could have been. I never went to summer camp. Sometimes I feel like I missed out. Why did my parents never send me? Why did I miss out on so much fun? These questions run through my mind every so often. However, when I think back to when I was a child, this was never a cause of any dismay. The truth is, I never dreamed of going to summer camp.

Here I am now. I have finally found the right tree to plant myself under for the next hour. Funny enough, a squirrel led me here. A few minutes ago, I watched it scurry across the grassy hill and leap up to the trunk of this tree. I figure if the squirrel likes it, then so do I. I lay down under the tree’s shade as my back sinks into the green grass. The sunlight drips through the canopy of leaves as I shut my eyes and my mind becomes a drift.

I can’t believe it’s already Summer. The time really is going by way too fast. I let these thoughts flow through me, cringing at how cliché and how over used they are. I dislike it when I hear people say them, and I dislike it even more when I am the one to say or think them. However, despite my disdain of these thoughts, I will admit that I also feel a subtle comfort in their familiarity. I take great pleasure in pondering the human psyche and have always been fascinated with our complex relationships, particularly with the concept of time. This reminds me of the first joke I ever learned, “Why did the man throw the clock out the window?” The punch line is a groaner, I know. This is why I love letting my mind wander, as I never know where it might land up. Retracing my mind’s steps, I note that it is not technically the first official day of summer for 2 more days. I always get a head of myself, as I consider Summer to be the start of June for some reason. A new passing thought which floats into my mind now reminds that the final days of school are happening all around me. I assume this thought probably floated in along with that memory of the terrible joke about ‘time flying’. It’s official, the flood gates of my childhood memories have now been opened wide. There is nothing to worry about though, as I fully welcome lowering the levee. I am in no rush.

I start to imagine myself being a student again during the last week before summer holidays. A young student sitting at one of those awful attached desk and chair combinations. A horrid thought. However, it is still not as bad as the experience of when the skin on the back of your legs get stuck to the seat. I remember how hot and sticky the air was in the classroom during this time. How the days seemed shorter and how the teachers and the classes relaxed into a less serious nature. I remember the very last day as being some sort of paradoxical time warp, where it felt like the shortest but also the slowest. I remember the beautiful sound of the final bell. I remember the lighthearted feeling of walking out the doors, into what I remember as always being the the most sunny, warm and perfect day. It was a true pathetic fallacy in the most glorious of ways. However, while this blissful and strange day brought happiness, it was also a sad time. It was sad saying goodbye to certain classmates and teachers. Even though I knew some of the goodbyes would not be forever, for a child, a summer could feel like an eternity. This is why the last day was always bitter sweet. Summer may taste different to everyone, but bitter sweet is what summer has always meant and has always tasted like to me.

Speaking of taste, summer brought with it a plethora of wonderful food. I believe that my favourite summer foods were those emulating the bitter sweet feeling of summer. My favourite summer foods hold their titles not because of the type or taste, but because of the memories attached to them. These fond memories were ones created in my childhood, the time when summer was it’s most magical. For me, they were also something digested which taught lessons about life. The memories were food for thought and soul. I would argue in order to be an iconic summer food, it must hold some of these qualities. Yes, hotdogs, corn cobs and watermelon rank high as the classic symbolic foods of summer, but everyone has different tastes. Icons are merely symbols and I would argue that they are more personal, especially when it comes to food. I rank my personal favourite iconic foods of summer based on a scale of how memorable and impactful it was to me, if it taught me something, if it was an experience shared with others and finally, if it was a taste of my childhood summer’s bitter sweetness.

I am searching my mind with intention now in order to dig up what I ate during my childhood summer months. I remember drinking lots of the pink lemonade that my family would stir up from those frozen cans and I remember eating lots of homemade pizza and watermelon slices. As a child, I had a particular obsession with watermelon. I remember I even had a watermelon theme for my birthday one year. I really think there is something satisfying about food cut into triangles, especially watermelon. Unfortunately, my family always cut their homemade pizza into squares, which is something I am still frustrated about. Thankfully though, they did not treat watermelon the same way.

I would say that the experience of eating watermelon as a child was sometimes a bittersweet one. If it wasn’t cut small enough, you would get the sticky watermelon juice all over the sides of your mouth. I can feel the stickiness on my face just thinking about it. A feeling I have always detested, but nothing which could not be painstakingly ignored for a few minutes, in order to enjoy the sweet fruit. I also remember the times my family bought the watermelon with the black seeds! What was that about? When you’re a child, not only did you now have to worry about accidentally swallowing a potential watermelon nightmare, it was just a cruel joke. However, it is a true testament to the goodness of watermelon that we still ate it. Eating watermelon was somehow worth all the potential risk and fear you may have had. While these memories of my favourite childhood summer foods are nice, they are just barely beginning to scratch the surface. I know I must go deeper to find my answers. I now start to visualize and project my mind back to a time when I was at summer camp. But how is this possible, when I just admitted I never went to summer camp?

I have become use to my friends telling me stories about their time at summer camp. How they became camp councillors and became leaders at a young age. However, what I find strange, is that they never seem to go into the details. I want to know! Why don't they tell me what they actually did at camp? Are they hiding something? In hindsight, maybe it’s my fault since I never asked these types of questions until now? Instead, I seem to have a knack for letting my imagination go wild as a substitute. Although, I'll never truly know what summer camp was like myself, I don't get too hung up about it. The truth is, I never dreamed of going to summer camp, not until I became an adult anyway. This is because I never needed to go, when I had a summer camp right in my own backyard.

When I was a child, I played outside all day, every season, snow or shine. As far back as I can remember, when I wasn’t doing my school work, the rest of my childhood was spent playing outside. Therefore, I consider my childhood neighbourhood, more specifically, the park with the playground, the grassy field with the gravel path by my elementary school, the one connivence store and the small little woods to be my equivalent of a summer camp. Collectively, these “summer camp” locations made up whole huge, little world. One must also remember that a camp is not complete without camp goers. I suppose the camp goers at my “summer camp” were just the neighbourhood kids who lived right across the street from me. There were several families who had kids very close to around my age. Together, we were a pack of campers at summer camp. It really was an all season camp, but that is for another story all together. Usually, when I look back in time, I tend to see my entire childhood as one glossy loving and happy memory. I am truly lucky. Now that I am beginning to visualize my childhood summer camp, the images and hidden memories are becoming clearer.

I now recall the one summer camp ritual we always did. This was our journey to Mr.Ted’s connivence store. My fellow campers and I would become scavengers, on the hunt for five cent candies. Eating five cent candies from Mr. Ted's store was a favourite summer food of mine. My mind has started to wander far and wide now. I take three deep breaths and remind myself of my surroundings, sensing the soft grass and the cool shade of the tree under which I lay. I now remember how long I would collect my coins until the day my fellow campers and I had all saved enough to go to the store. We would decide that today would be the day, after doing some quick finger math to estimate our maximum candy haul. After we took a vote, I informed my parents and ventured out with my friends from the street. I would confidently say it was our biggest neighbourhood camp activity. In reality, Ted’s connivence store was just located a couple blocks away from home, but as a child the walk always felt like forever.

A straight paved sidewalk carried us along. The pavement was hot with the summer heat. We marched along, until we dragged our feet. I remember how aware I was of my own shadow during all of these walks. I remember how I had even given my shadow it’s own name, playing make-believe of how Shannon the Shadow was coming with us to get candy too. Sadly, as an adult, I can’t tell you the last time I remember seeing my shadow. Maybe it’s because I drive so often now? Maybe there is another reason? I can now vividly recall how I would also observe my shadow being under the spell of the sun’s tricks. I would watch as it stretched and morphed during the day. The world sure is a wondrous and curious place through the eyes of a child. As my grandmother says, “Never lose your curiosity.” This is her secret to never getting old. After what felt like a global mission, we all made it. Victory!

As these memories continue to flow, I feel a warm feeling pass over me. So much so, that the words in my mind start to rhyme. This being said, please excuse me if my words get a little flowery, this is what happens when my memories start flourishing. While I believe in the technical discipline of defining art, I also believe that it is wise to not fully restrict the artful flower to a chokehold. I digress. Ted’s store was always cool. As each of us entered, we looked at the big buffet of different candies, enough to make you drool. So many colours, shapes, sizes and every possible sugary thing. I loaded up on the peaches, which after a while became my thing. "You and your peaches!" My friends would all laugh, as we we filled our little plastic bags up. We would spend our very last coin. After all, we did come here on a mission and we were serious campers.

We would count out the coins on the counter in front of Ted, while emptying out our little wallets, to make sure we got them all. Ted was a kind old man. I’m almost positive that was not his actual name, but we called him Ted anyway, of course. Some of the campers didn’t like Ted. They thought that he did not like children in his store because of pick pockets. So many candies... “Come on, why'd you get the rockets?” One of the campers would exclaim. We all would stare at the one girl, as she sucked on her sour candies, with a look which said she couldn’t care less in the world. I liked Ted though and I made sure to always use my manners. We left the store always feeling like wealthy winners. We held tight onto our loot. I would say we felt like pirates, but no, we earned that coin. We would earn it by saving allowance, doing chores or by begging our parents for two extra dollars. Eating most of my peach candies on the way back was easier than saving them for later I thought. Pumped up on sugar, walking back felt delightfully quick. We would all eat enough until one more would make you sick.

Speaking of getting sick, I now remember the time my parents gave me the chance to try and finish a tub of chocolate ice cream all by myself. One day, I had asked to finish the rest and they just gave me a look and said “go for it”. I dug in and began eating, but I had to put down my spoon down part way. I gave up after getting the feeling that one more would make me throw up. I learned a valuable lesson that day. I learned that sometimes you really can have too much of a good thing. On the thought of cold cream treats, I suppose ice cream was also a favourite summer food of mine. It also reminds me of the gelato store I would go to with my family every summer. We had to drive to a neighbouring city, but it was worth it, as it was the best Italian gelato since Italy. I realize gelato is more of a treat and is not really considered a type of food. This being said, I guess neither are five cent candies. However, I can support this case because to child, if you can eat it, it constitutes as food. Therefore with this childlike logic, candy and treats would be considered food too. I could go on about five cent candies and ice cream, but it is still difficult for me to pinpoint my favourite summer food of all.

As I continue to let my memories flood in, the thoughts are now leading me to the lessons of lemonade and chocolate fudge popsicles. These were also both favourite summer foods of mine. I know, I admit that neither of these are really considered food either. I guess summer was just full of treats and joy for me, but all the sweeter. Lemonade taught me valuable lessons about the art of business and life in general. As the saying goes, “when life gives you lemons…” I remember one summer where I worked for days making the most epic lemonade stand. I cut and transformed cardboard into the best signs with sparkle and all. Rumour has it, that the house I grew up in still can’t get rid of all the glitter. The day of, I squeezed a tonne of fresh lemons, no frozen cans this time. I not only made lemonade, I also made stove popped butter popcorn and baked homemade chocolate chip cookies as well. When everything was ready, I proudly went out in front of my house where I set up a table, put up my signs, my chairs and my beach umbrella. Not long after, thirsty customers were stopping by and soon the whole street got word of my stand. When the camp found out, I had their full support. My fellow campers began helping me serve customers and business was booming. Maybe now I realize, I didn’t need to be a camp councillor to be a leader after all. Life was sure good that day. However, as it turned out, the summer camp lemonade stand didn't turn a profit. My parents had told me that we broke-even after the stand’s expenses. Now as an adult, I can clearly see why that was no surprise at all. But life gave us lemons, we made lemonade and we all had a ball. I learned a lot about business from playing outside at the neighbourhood summer camp. I could write a whole other story about it, but that’s also for another time.

I know, I made it sound like my childhood was all sunshine and rainbows but rainbows can’t be seen without the rain. Finally, I remember one childhood memory that was shrouded with some unhappiness. This thought had just floated in like a little storm cloud, right into my mind’s blue sky. A summer memory about my favourite fudge popsicle which I still can't seem to leave behind. It was a really hot summer day and I had brought my little school crush over to my house. I wanted to impress them really bad. Outside my family’s house there was a little gateway, which had a small little garden. Every summer I would help my family tend to it. It was a cute little spot and here is where I told my crush to “wait right there”. Inspiration had sparked and I went as quick as I could inside. I went straight to the freezer, to retrieve them one of my favourite fudge popsicles. I handed them one and began devouring mine. They were one of my favourite treats and I just knew they would love… "Ew.” They said, spitting out their bite. The look on their face was in absolute disgust. I have never seen an expression like that since that faithful day again. “How can someone not like a chocolate popsicle?” I thought. I was completely dumbfounded. The plan had catastrophically backfired. That day I learned the valuable lesson, that not everyone loves the same things I love too. I don’t remember much after that. My life was shattered. I shouldn't have taken it so personally, it was just over food. Oh the tramua! I know, I am being over dramatic and I’m sure I'll eventually get over it, eventually. However, to this day, I still fear making a gag worthy meal for someone.

After all this reminiscing, I think I have finally narrowed it down to my favourite summer food. I still would not truly call it a food, but it’s not just a treat either. My favourite summer food would have to be my nana’s peanut butter sandwiches cut into four squares. I loved peanut butter sandwiches as they made the perfect camp lunch time summer snack. Even though I was a very young child, I remember this one day day very clear. It was mid-afternoon when I came in the house from playing outside. My grandmother had made me a peanut butter sandwich with each of the four cut squares perfectly placed on a plate. For the very first time, I decided I would bring the plate outside to sit on the back deck. The sun was sitting high in the sky and it was scorching. I sat myself down right on the barren hot wooden deck carefully placing my plate down between my legs. Despite the heat, I was enjoying life and being carefree.

I was very delighted about my soon-to-be meal and was observing one of the large pine trees in the yard. Then suddenly a big brown squirrel came up of no where. They had large round cheeks and a big bushy tail which was waving back and forth. They were taunting me. Moving closer then stopping and then moving a little closer again. It looked like they were playing the childhood game, “What time is it Mr.Wolf?” The squirrels in the town where I grew up were definitely more friendly and personable than the squirrels in the town I live in now. That being said, I thought he was just being curious and I didn’t think much of it. Then, as quick as lightening and without breaking eye contact, they snatched a whole square right off my plate! The squirrel was now holding onto one of my peanut butter sandwich squares tight in his little hands. The size of the square in comparison to the squirrel was comical. Still looking at me from cheek to cheek they paused, eyes glistening in the sun. They held still for a long time. I stared back in amazement. I was stunned as we both looked and were locked in a staring match. It felt like time stood still. With eyes locked, I think I thought that he might apologize and reconsider trying to take my lunch. Nope! They sprinted off clutching onto their prized square. I sat there confused, now looking down at my three squares left, in bliss. The squirrel's day was made I'm sure. “What a mooch!” I thought. I ran inside to tell my family. “Guess what happened!” I said frantically. I was so amazed. I guess that's why I still remember it and why I would call the peanut butter sandwich my most favourite summer food of all.

The peanut butter sandwich is attached to a bitter sweet childhood summer memory that I held onto for all of these years. It was not just food. It was a shared meal and a shared memory. Shared between a brown squirrel and I. A shared sandwich with Mother Nature. That day I found out that animals enjoy human food as well. This is an important lesson learned, better sooner than later. I guess peanut butter sandwiches might be their favourite summer time food too. That is until my nana gave one of the squirrels a pecan once. Which they went literally nuts over. Sadly, they don’t naturally grow over in this part of the world and the poor thing must be going stir crazy still to this day trying to find one.