Yesterday I got an email from a Montana friend of mine who is living in Mesa now. She was describing how her kids are mostly hanging out and swimming this summer and how they are going to visit their Grandma in Tucson next week—Sabino Canyon, more swimming, Gaslight Theatre. And don’t forget the eegee’s!
This email sent me down memory lane and I started thinking about our summers growing up. The staying up late and getting up late, watching cartoons and eating cereal and hurrying to get our little chores done so we could go swimming—either at our pool, the neighbors’, or the public pool. The public pool was usually the one at Palo Verde Park by our stake center (and right by the Gaslight, Deb!) and it was 25 cents to get in and they had a bunch of 25-cent snacks at the snack bar, too (I liked Fritos or a Bullet Popsicle).
We could usually swim a couple of hours until the thunder and lightning of the monsoons started around 4 pm and they kicked us all out of the pool. The running super-fast over the asphalt as it singed the soles of our feet. The water fun after the rain started and the washes (or “arroyos” in Spanish) filled up (yeah, I know like 10 people died every summer from doing stupid stuff like this, but hey, we survived). I don’t think Mesa gets as much monsoon action as Tucson, but that’s the thing I miss the most. I loved how the day would heat up to some ridiculous temperature and the skies would just let it rip and then it would smell so good out side, with the creosote and mesquite and sage. The night temperatures would be nice and cool and the sunsets would be awesome as the thunderclouds rolled off to the northwest.
Sabino Canyon is cheesily called “Our Desert Oasis,” but it really was. When we were teenagers getting away with our friends, or as school kids having a ditch day with our mom, Sabino Canyon was a magical place to swim, dive, wade, picnic and just CHILL! I heard that all of our swimming holes are gone and that makes me sad, but it’s still gorgeous.
So enjoy Tucson next week, guys. Have an eegee’s for me, and maybe a pizza at Little Anthony’s right there next to Gaslight (a pre- and post-stake dance hang out). And if you get the chance for a great dinner out, try El Charro down town—so fun and festive. Wave to my ‘hood as you drive past Park Place Mall—my neighborhood and elementary school and all that is just south of there!
All that said, I have just one thing to add: “Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah, it was a toasty 80 degrees today!” I miss AZ, but I do LOVE Montana. The world is a beautiful place.
3 comments:
Reading this posting has made me so homesick. I have been away so long it doesn't feel like a place I know at all anymore. Your memories are different then mine, but I still remember the washes after monsoons and smelling the ceosote. Man! I used to try and take the plant back with me to Ohio just so I could have that smell with me and I would tell all my friends what a beautiful and unique place it was! I have tears!
OUR SWIMMING HOLES ARE GONE? moldy cow. I tell darrin about sabino canyon all the time. man, that makes me sad. I miss the sunsets and all the rain. I remember getting up on G-mas roof and looking at Mount Lemmon and seeing the outline of the fires. That was pretty neat. I miss all of you. I love you. xoxoxoxo
hey girlie,
glad to finally find you...again, and in Montana? crazy.
Your post reminded me of growing up in Montana. You get to see the beauty now of the area where I spent childhood. We weren't allowed to talk to any hippies, and we spent summers playing in the park near our home where there was a swimming pool and the reading bus would come by once a week.
We used to go visit my great-grandmother at the ranch she and her family homesteaded outside of Choteau every summer. She taught us to find wild honeysuckle in the heat of the summer like this. I spent hours looking at the bugs and sparse plants in those glacial fields of river rocks and pebbles. Ear Mountain always towered in the distance. Those hot afternoon thundershowers always left the air sweet and pungent with the smell of sage. That's always been the smell of rain to me.
They were always warning us to beware of the bears, but I only saw one once. I swear the same bear has lived at that ranch for the past 75 years or so!
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