The More Things Change

When I was in high school, my parents let me go up to a friend’s cabin on the lake for the weekend.  Four 17 year old girls, we drove to Watts Bar all by ourselves and set up housekeeping.  We built a fire and set up our lawn chairs around it and played charades.  I liberally anointed the flames with lighter fluid whenever they threatened to dim.  We ended up spending the night outside by our fire.  That evening is one of my best memories (I suspect theirs as well).  Just a few code words can continue to call up those memories and make all of us laugh.
Tonight, Teddy has four friends spending the night.  At the moment they are roaming the five acres of woods with (I hope) a flashlight, since it is close to midnight.  Before that, though, they built a fire (application of lighter fluid was done by adults, and we supervised the entire operation).  Our house is in the city, but our back yard is in the county, so we have attempted to tame our firebugs with legitimate bonfires.  It’s fun to watch Teddy and his friends having fun and building memories.   I loved high school and I love remembering it, and I hope he will too.

0 thoughts on “The More Things Change

    1. It really feels like that, the way I remember it. Thanks for reading and commenting, Maggie. I love your blog–your writing AND what you have to say, a lot of which resonates with me at the moment.

  1. Pingback: Nothing to Do « Life in Every Limb

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