I spent the day working outside today. Mowing, weed-whacking, and raking up the mess. My son wanted to play in the pool when I was done, so I filled it up and we had a small water battle. After I got out of the shower, I realized that I must have been outside for quite a while, as my farmer’s tan was more red than brown. I reached the fridge and found the bottle of clear, green aloe inside. I opened the cap and was overwhelmed with the smell of the summers of my youth …
We had a time-share on a houseboat in Lake Powell, UT. Every summer, my family and two others would take two weeks and spend on the lake. One of the families had a ski boat, and we ended up combining our weeks together for convenience. The lake was huge with so many things to do.
I can remember stalking small lizards on the sandstone formations, grabbing them by their tails, and watching them scurry away with little stubs as I looked in awe at the tail I’d have wiggling in my clutches.
I can remember scouring the rock formations for small, round sandstone rocks we believed to be Indian marbles.
I can remember my cousin and his friend deciding they wanted an “all-over” tan. They snuck off somewhere in the rocks and laid out nude, only to fall asleep in the sun and return with “all-over” sunburns. Their dads thought it would be a good idea for them to go water skiing to serve as further reminder to not lay out naked in the sun.
I can remember fishing from the roof of the houseboat. One time, the Fish ‘n Game cops showed up and confiscated all of the fishing gear since not everyone had proper licensing. Another time, we had spent all day fishing without catching a single fish. We were just about ready to pack it in, when my oldest sister (the one just younger than me) started to reel in what was the biggest fish that I had ever seen. It turned out to be a Carp, but the largest fish ever anyhow, and her ticket to eternal bragging rights. Mostly, we would fish for Blue Gill. They were small, and really prickly, but they were good fighters and fun to catch.
I can remember waking up to screaming in the middle of the night. My brother and I had slept out in bags on the deck of the houseboat at night and he had rolled off into the water. No drowning, no death, just a lot of woke up people.
I can remember playing Blitz with all my friends. It was a card game where you tried to get 31 points of the same suit (aces worth 11, face cards worth 10, and all others at face value, knocking, and three of a kind) to win a round. Each person had three “lives” and when someone else won, you’d loose one. You really had 4 lives, since after your third loss, you were holding onto the horse’s tail until next time. When we played with the older kids, I was credited with loosing three times and then hanging onto the tail forever. I haven’t played that game in a very long time.
Mostly I remember the water. The water was the deepest blue-green I had ever seen. It was such a wonderful color. It was great for swimming, fishing, skiing, and playing. We dared each other to jump off rock formations into it. I learned to water ski on it. I got burned playing in it. I gained my independence in it.
I look back at the summers I spent in Lake Powell as the time when I was allowed to be on my own, learning to be me.
That’s what I smell when I open a bottle of aloe to put on my sunburn.
