by Kristin Nador/@KristinNador
I think I’m officially naming 2012 My Summer of Nostaglia. Two weeks ago I stayed home and played with toys. The sinuses are better, but I’m still struggling with hip issues and not getting around very well. All I could handle this week was a short drive without too much walking. I drove to a strange little attraction that took me back to an unexpected time and place.
Write Anywhere #44: The Blue Whale
The Blue Whale is a quirky attraction in Catoosa, OK along the original Route 66. Hugh Davis built the Blue Whale for his wife in the 1970’s because she collected whale figurines. What a nice husband. He must have really loved her.
The spot became a popular swimming hole and travelers attraction. After falling into disrepair, local groups decided to help restore it.
You can see the whale peeking out of his idyllic spot. A family stopped to visit, and the children’s laughter echoing through the whale on a breezy summer day and the picnic tables brought back a memory.
3rd grade school picnic at Holiday Hills amusement park in St. Louis.
My first summer of love.
Daniel, a wiry boy with dark stringy hair, tugged at my heart strings. I’d had a crush on him all school year. We ran into the fun house at the same time. He beckoned me inside, and took my hand as the light faded. My pulse quickened. We ran past the plastic vampire and Frankenstein and laughed at our distorted reflections in the mirror.
“We’re almost there,” Daniel said, pulling me along. His voice gave me goose bumps.
“Here it is.”
He giggled and stepped behind me. I took a step into a unstable squishy substance, a spotlight flashed on and a piercing scream filled my ears. I jumped, and at that exact moment the dreamy Daniel shoved me, and I fell into the squishy, wiggling floor. I was stuck in what was supposed to be a scary dead body. I was face down in the rubber contraption, legs kicking. Daniel howled at the sight, then ran off, leaving me floundering in embarrassment. My introduction to romance. Brought back by a blue whale. Funny how the memory works.
All this gave me some good material for a short story. I scribbled some notes off while I relaxed at the picnic table.
Where did you write this week?
Question: Do you have a whimsical summer memory of childhood?
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