summer time

I can remember certain things so vividly that it seems impossible for these things to have happened so long ago,especially when I have a hard time remembering where my keys are at(solved by leaving them in the car)or why I am standing in front of the closet. We as a family,mom,dad 3 older sis and one baby sis and me,used to go to the beach in Canada every year. my parents started going there long before I was born when my dad was still talking to most of his brothers and my folks were so very young.I love the beach, excitement growing as we neared,. The long miles of tall evergreens that signalled we were close. Passing by the sign for Jellystone Camp ground with Yogi bear with his picanic basket.The dirt giving way to sand as we approached. Now looking back as how we got there,trying to be the one that got"picked" to sit in the front on the middle console so you weren't squished in the back with 3 others .

This was when we had the Javelin, what a car.We had several and it is the car we all learned to drive in.How unsafe ...no seat belts hearing "do you know the way to San Jose"early 70's. The beach is what calmed us. what kept us normal in the times are parents fought.

My father would send mom and us kids to the beach for the 2 months of summer

if you are told about it does it count as a memory

Much of my childhood I only remember through stories or photographs. I was Kid #4, girl 4 in a family wanting a boy.My dad was a first generation Italian, his parents came over in the early 1900's and settled in the western NY town

Start at the middle

How I wonder Did I get to this point?? My life in shambles and me once again picking up the pieces. Its worse this time , baggage and plenty of it.Well I guess that would be if you consider 4 kids excess luggage.Now I love my kids don't get the wrong idea. I know that if it wasn't for the strength and love of my kids i would not have survived this latest chapter. I realize that my kids are probably the only thing I have ever done right....my pride ,my joy,my four banged up suitcases held together by duct tape.Bruises, I am covered inside and out with ugly purple-gonna look worse before they look better BRUISES! Yeah thats how my boys learn to count ... by counting momma's boo-boos,and they sure could count pretty damn high! So Here I am, my thirties,deadend waitress in a small western NY town. The area where we are most famous for our triple foot snowfalls and second rate sports team. No way job in a nowhere town, except its my hometown. That's right all my mistakes made right here,sure glad that I am not a celebrity,hard enough to deal with so and so's mom asking if I am alright. Neighborly folks just checking out why the cops were at the place again at 10 am. This wasn't what my life was suppose to be like...nope.. plan was to go to college become an architect, leave Gossip valley,have a boy and not get married. Never was big on the marriage deal but you would have to know the family to understand that one. Boy was I way off on my life's plan!! So in order to figure out where I am going and how the hell I am gonna get there you and I sort of need to see where I have been...