My magic garden was at my Nana's house. I spent most of the first decade of my life at her house, and it was absolutely magical. Nana's house was more than just a house. It was my childhood wonderland.
In the front yard, there were luminous, bright pink azelas, beautiful gardenias with their sweet, heady smell, fragrant juniper and a lawn that was lush and verdant. The sunshine was plentiful and the air was a hodgepodge of fragrance and menagerie vivid colors. It was a place of creation. The driveway was our chalkboard and boy, did we draw. The corner of the flowerbed served as our construction zone, where we cheerfully engineered roads and tunnels with Nana's garden tools and our Hot Wheels and Tonka trucks. When we got tired of being on the construction site, we took a break in the shade with popsicles and fudge bars. There was always ice cream and sweet treats at Nana's.
In the backyard, there was our beloved swimming pool, which transformed into our Enchanted Underworld the minute we dove in. There were cannon ball contests, swan dive contests, underwater synchronized swimming shows and of course, the ring toss. Our skin was always tanned to a deep golden brown and we never got tired of being in the water. The only time we really didn't pitch too much of a fit getting out is when Nana would give us our Ice Cream Breaks. We would lay our towels on the pool deck, and cheerfully turn our ice cream into milkshakes by stirring incessantly. My Nana affectionately called it "Swirly-Swirly."
The inside was a place of warmth and comfort. The kitchen was our Alchemy Lab; the place where flour and yeast became delicious bread or cinnamon rolls. The place where all the indredients to the most delicious food ever were fresh and unboxed/unprocessed. It was here I learned to cook under Nana's cheerful guidance. Above all, it was the heart of the place that nourished me for so much of my childhood. It is a place I would do just about anything to go back and revisit...just ONE more time.
Everything seemed so much more magical at Nana's house. So magical, in fact, that if I close my eyes long enough, I can actually picture us in the kitchen, with the smell the scent of those sweet cinnamon rolls baking filling the air. It really was SOME garden!
In the front yard, there were luminous, bright pink azelas, beautiful gardenias with their sweet, heady smell, fragrant juniper and a lawn that was lush and verdant. The sunshine was plentiful and the air was a hodgepodge of fragrance and menagerie vivid colors. It was a place of creation. The driveway was our chalkboard and boy, did we draw. The corner of the flowerbed served as our construction zone, where we cheerfully engineered roads and tunnels with Nana's garden tools and our Hot Wheels and Tonka trucks. When we got tired of being on the construction site, we took a break in the shade with popsicles and fudge bars. There was always ice cream and sweet treats at Nana's.
In the backyard, there was our beloved swimming pool, which transformed into our Enchanted Underworld the minute we dove in. There were cannon ball contests, swan dive contests, underwater synchronized swimming shows and of course, the ring toss. Our skin was always tanned to a deep golden brown and we never got tired of being in the water. The only time we really didn't pitch too much of a fit getting out is when Nana would give us our Ice Cream Breaks. We would lay our towels on the pool deck, and cheerfully turn our ice cream into milkshakes by stirring incessantly. My Nana affectionately called it "Swirly-Swirly."
The inside was a place of warmth and comfort. The kitchen was our Alchemy Lab; the place where flour and yeast became delicious bread or cinnamon rolls. The place where all the indredients to the most delicious food ever were fresh and unboxed/unprocessed. It was here I learned to cook under Nana's cheerful guidance. Above all, it was the heart of the place that nourished me for so much of my childhood. It is a place I would do just about anything to go back and revisit...just ONE more time.
Everything seemed so much more magical at Nana's house. So magical, in fact, that if I close my eyes long enough, I can actually picture us in the kitchen, with the smell the scent of those sweet cinnamon rolls baking filling the air. It really was SOME garden!
No comments:
Post a Comment