Welcome back to your BOOKCATION! Now I would like to introduce author Abigail Sharpe who I can definitely relate with on the vacation dilemma, being a Florida native myself! ☺
The humidity crept across the back yard, bringing with it the sultry heat of summer nights. The lowering sun cast shadows through the tall hedges. He came to the back door, his footfalls light on the steps outside, droplets of water still clinging to his hair after a dip in the lake. On the summer wind came the beckoning cry, “Anybody want a pickle?”
Okay, so maybe the romances of my young summers were only in my head. Every year we went to the same cottage on Lake Massapog in Sharon, MA, and stayed there for a couple of months while my parents commuted to Boston and my siblings and I went to camp. Sometimes we got to pick wild blueberries that grew near our beach. The pickle stuff was real, though – our neighbors were famous for their brand of homemade pickles.
My teen years were spent on a better beach on the Gulf of Mexico instead of the rocky waters of the lake. By then I didn’t need my parents to make sure I didn’t drown, but I also rarely went into the water. I spent the hours laying on a towel, hoping for a tan and not a burn, reading a book or checking out the hot lifeguards.
The tan never happened, by the way. Yay for pale skin. Not.
Fast forward to college when every weekend would find me playing volleyball by yet another lake. Until, that is, I had to get a job to pay for school, and weekends became the time to work more hours or catch up on studying.
I miss summer vacations.
Once we moved to Florida, my family never went anywhere, not really. Summer romances came down to the boy visiting the beach with his parents for the day or the guy you met cruising the beach at night. Nothing I could write a book about. But I still miss my carefree youth and the lack of responsibility.All you needed was a car and the world in front of you.
Now I need that paycheck and have to hoard my vacation hours, so summer time doesn’t mean as much as it used to. Still, I try to take my kids somewhere to give them memories to last their lifetimes. Disney, or Stone Mountain, GA, or even just to pick fresh strawberries or blueberries at u-pick farms. And thankfully, they’re still young enough to want to be with Mom instead of looking for girls. But it is too bad they can’t pick pickles.