It is here, at last, the moment we’ve been waiting for. Proper sultry, summer weather of hot sun and blue skies from dawn until dusk, which is around nine-thirty, and I would like to say it goes on day after day. It won’t. I think this is two days of heatwave, then rain, possibly storm, and cooler temperatures. My house is currently thirty-four degrees and I feel sticky and uncomfortable. The heatwave may not be completely responsible. After two and a half years of sticking to guidelines and looking out for myself and family, Covid has got me. I tested positive at the weekend after feeling unwell for a couple of days. There are no signs of recovery yet. When it cools down, I’ll rest in the garden, admiring the fruits of my labours, especially the planter I’ve called Tangerine and White.
The summers of our youth were everlasting and full of ice
cream, the park, the beach and sometimes a holiday. Our holidays tended to be
spent with family, when my dad could escape from running the pub for more than
two days together. It was always good to spent time with our cousins. They are
in the USA now, but they lived in London and the south of England when we were
all children. My sister and I loved their big garden offering lots of room to
play, even space for badminton.
For years home was a pub on South Promenade. We had the
beach on our doorstep. Day after day we were there, not a care in the world and
not a thought for how lucky we were. Someone would be with us until I, being
the eldest, was considered old enough to take us across four lanes of traffic
and the tramlines. My sister would choose an ice lolly or ice cream. I loved a
portion of shrimps in a tiny paper bag. I can still taste how delicious they
were. Better than anything sweet.
When our children were young, summer holidays meant the long
road trip to Pembrokeshire and a couple of weeks staying in a static caravan.
It was owned by family members who didn’t use it during the busy months of July
and August, but were very happy for us and others to enjoy it. We were so
privileged. We had holidays that wouldn’t have happened if not for the
generosity of our extended family. Our children, and us have great memories of
those wonderful times.
Making memories is what we’ll be doing in a few weeks when
we take our grown up children and all our grandchildren to have a blast at
Butlin’s. It’s our treat as grandparents and a one-off. It will be fun for all
of us, of course, but it is centred on giving the grandchildren a fabulous time.
My grandparents used to take me to Butlin’s when I was small, before I had a
sister. Now I’m the nanna. It’s my turn.
Allow me the indulgence of my favourite of Shakespeare’s sonnets,
Sonnet 18Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm’d;
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance or nature’s changing course untrimm’d;
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st;
Nor shall death brag thou wander’st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.
William Shakespeare 1564-1616
Thanks for reading, Pam x
5 comments:
A good read Pam. Sorry Covid got you, but hope you're over the worst. Those nasturtiums look the business. Enjoy your multi-generational holiday.
Now it's pouring with rain and that sonnet sounds even more appealing.
Fancy living opposite a beach when you were younger. I would have been very jealous.
It's weird that all the summers of our youth were sunny. We must have had rain.
Thank you for the chance to read the sonnet again.
Hope you get better soon.
Thank you for your comments. I'm testing negative now, but a bit up and down as I recover. I'm pleased with my gardening efforts this summer. I've grown most of it from seed. The plants have been my babies. This is what retirement has done to me. Terry, I should get down to the beach more, for the nostalgia.
Ah Shakespeare. He's quite good ;)
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