Sprinklers and memories

It’s 95 degrees and the kids next door are running through the sprinkler.

Inside, I could hear the giggles and squeals over the television and air conditioning.

And it brought me back. It’s 1962 or ’63’ or ’64. It’s hot. And my siblings and I are running through the sprinkler, delighted on a hot day to have a fun way to cool off.

Back here in 2018, nobody else is stirring outside. But Dad has the right idea. Let the kids play while he waters the lawn. Rarely does a useful thing and a delightful thing pair so wonderfully. And how else could anyone enjoy a day this hot?

Drawn by the giggles, I bring seed packets and a watering can outside, planting annuals here and there on the little hillside in front of my house. It is not strenuous gardening and I stay out for only about 5 minutes at a time.

I have to go in because I don’t have a sprinkler running so 95 degrees is not fun for me. But I’m glad it’s fun for the neighbor kids.

 

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