The Organized Option | Organized Solutions for Quilt Makers, Crafters and Others

    When I learned that this month's newspaper theme was on summertime fun, I was anxious to contribute.  What was it like for you growing up?  Most of us probably think of strict parents, teenage crushes and school bullies.   When I was younger and asked that question, my first thought was of my year as a high school freshman (flat-chested, padded bra, gym class--you know what that means; absolute torture).

    Years later when I was asked that question, my first thought was of my irritating parents.  Now when I'm asked that question, my first thought is . . . I had an awesome childhood!  Isn't it interesting how our outlook improves?  We all make the decision whether to look at life as the glass half empty or half full.  I think my "half full" outlook began when my daughter was born.  I wanted her to love the outdoors as much as I did.

    When I was young, my parents loaded all of us kids in the camper and we hit the road for our summertime vacation.  We camped in every national park west of the Mississippi, hiked most of the trails, and rode dirt bikes in the tallest of sand dunes.  I have always had a strong connection with nature, and I owe this to my parents.  But I was a young wanderer, and this caused them many a gray hair.  I was never lost or fearful -- I just had another canyon to explore, tree to climb, or animal to track.  And there wasn't a frog or lizard I couldn't catch!

    If you grew up with this kind of summertime recreation, then you know the exhilaration I'm talking about.  Thank goodness cell phones, text messaging and the internet hadn't been invented by then.  As fond as I am of these electronic conveniences now as an adult, I think they've robbed our younger generation from experiencing the pure fun of outdoor recreation. 

When my daughter was young, I bought a little pop-up trailer and she and I hit the road for our summertime vacations.  We had a lot of fun (other than diarrhea episodes and running to roadside bathrooms).  Perhaps not always great memories, but my best photograph is of her sitting beside a stream with her nose buried in a book.  She's an adult now and, although adverse to camping (h-o-t-e-l), in 10 years or so someone will ask her what was it like growing up.  I don't know if she'll have achieved her "half full" outlook by then, but someday, her response will be, "I had an awesome childhood!  Let me tell you about it."