I recently started experiencing these moments that make me flash back to my childhood.
Like this Saturday, when I bought a half gallon of chocolate milk. You probably think that's no big deal, but to me it was a major step back into the kiddy pool. You see, I am unequivocally NOT a chocolate milk drinker. It has way too many calories and is a bit thick for my taste. The drink does remind me of my days as a little girl, when milk with Hershey's syrup was a special treat. Only if we finished our first glass of milk.
I was strolling down the aisles of my neighborhood Kroger and found myself lured to the milk case, literally salivating over the idea of a tall drink of chocolate milk.
I have also taken up the habit of long walks in the neighborhood. Saturday morning I woke up at 7:30 and slid in to my yoga pants and tennis shoes for a brisk stroll. I like looking at all the houses, some with gingerbread trim - others with stained glass, and I wonder whether the people inside are living the dreams they hatched so many moons ago. Are they happy with their own corner of the world? With the purple impatiens in the front yard and the hammock on the back patio? What else could they be yearning for? What is my own life missing?
I stared intently at the cracks and cement moving below my feet and noticed the remnants of a cicada body. I kind of felt bad for the little guy, dead and exposed while the rest of his brood stayed safe below the surface of the earth. I kind of identified with the cicada... Sometimes I feel like I'm not keeping up with the rest of the Gen X. pack, what with everybody else buying homes and tying knots and birthing babies. Sometimes I get bummed about the orbit my life is spinning, other times I'm quite content with my journey.
Retail Therapy has a way of making everything feel better, doesn't it?
Yesterday I took a spin in the neighborhood Gap and made a score on some beautiful skirts. They're kind of old fashioned in that they are very loose and full, and hit just (and I mean just) above the knee. The skirts kind of remind me of dresses I used to wear when I was a little girl. I'd wear these Polly Flinders dresses (which are apparently vintage now) that had all kinds of smocking on them and were really full on the bottom. My youngest sister loved to stand above the air vents in these dresses, ballooning her dress up until she'd say she looked like a blueberry.
Today I kind of feel like my ass looks like a pink "blueberry."
I'm really getting on the salad bandwagon. Last night I was so happy with a salad that included mixed field greens, pine nuts and grated parmigiano reggiano. So simple with a balsamic vinaigrette.
God, remember the day when we could eat anything we wanted?