Childhood Summers in Northern Michigan

by Holly Klapper

The constant beckoning of the outdoors was almost too much to take when you had chores to do inside.  Just the second our chores were given mother’s approval out the screen door we ran; with a loud slam.  Usually this was followed by a faintly heard reprimand from mother.  We were already halfway across the yard.  There were so many things to explore in the outdoors.  There were streams to cool your hot feet in, perfect trees for making  rope swings, beautiful Mayflowers and sometimes mushrooms or wild berries to proudly take back to mom.

The air was always filled with the smell of fresh cut grass in the summer.  My favorite times were when the Aunts and their children came over.  We had long picnic tables in the yard and would help our moms shuck bushel after bushel of corn.  It was canning time.  After a few complaints they would usually let us stray off and play hide and seek or kick the can.  Red Rover was another favorite.  We also enjoyed taking one of Grandmother’s strong old quilts and holding the edges carefully, while tossing one of the smaller children in the air.  Oh the giggles caused by that!   A good wheelbarrow could keep us entertained for a good while, taking turns pushing each other.

On special occasions we could persuade mom to take us to the lake for a swim.  I always liked to go in slowly, as it was very cold.  The tiny fish would come and nibble on your toes.  My, how that tickled.  We would have contests walking on our hands and doing flips in the water.  My favorite lake had a few logs floating in the water for our amusement.  We, of course, had to see who could stay on the longest.  Not an easy feat.  The most fun of all for me was when we got to stay until it was dark and make a fire.  Usually the marshmallows were brought out.  The search for the perfect stick could last 20 minutes!  Everything was a competition.

A couple times in the summer we would have company over and dad would make homemade ice cream in the yard.  This was no small endeavor.  I don’t know for sure how long it truly took him.  But, to a child waiting for ice cream, it seemed like five hours.   There were wild strawberry patches and rhubarb grew wild too.  But, the best picking was out of my dad and Grandpa’s garden.  They  grew grapes, raspberries and blackberries.  Summers always meant sticky fingers and red stained t-shirts.  We were truly blessed.