Yesterday, I had lunch with my grandmother and my aunt at the country club, where I remember swimming lessons in the pool and easter egg hunts on the putting green when I was little. They’ve renovated the whole thing now, but they used to have open air cabanas, and I remember my mom wrapping me up in a towel when I got out of the pool, probably comforting me after a traumatic swimming lesson. I would sit backward in her lap while she combed the chlorine from my hair.  I remember hugging her and looking over her freckled shoulder up at the summer sky.
Grandmom, Amy and I sat in the sun and the breeze on the patio and I felt like we’d wandered right into the 1920’s just in time for a garden tea party. I am counting my chicken quesadilla among the top five meals of my life, right up there with fish and chips on the terrace at Epcot Center Rose and Crown and pizza on the volcanic beach in Chile.
Will’s CIT session at Camp ended yesterday, so my mom and I went to pick him up. It was so beautiful in the Berkshires last night – my favorite time of day of my favorite part of the season at camp, when there’s a refreshingly crisp twinge in the air. It reminded me of the nights when we would all put on sweatpants and fleece and lie around watching for shooting stars, and how my bare feet would always get cold because I never remembered or bothered to wear socks, but how I felt warm enough anyway.
Will is awesome in his (my) staff shirt. The first thing he said was, “there are so many people who want me to tell them when you get here,” and let me give him a hug.
Quote of the day: “So turn up the corners of your lips, part them and feel my finger tips, trace the moment, fall forever” – Dashboard Confessional
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