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Where We Live: Priceless memories

It’s amazing how the tiniest taste or the faintest smell can take you on a journey back to your childhood.

That happened this weekend when I bought olive loaf at the grocery store. Don’t judge me - I know what’s in the loaf part. Actually I don’t want to know what’s in it - let’s just say bologna-like substance and leave it there.

One bite of a sandwich on white bread with butter and I was transported back to the summer after fifth grade when my parents packed the coolers and piled my brothers and me into the old blue station wagon and went off to the Aquashicola Creek banks.

Sometimes my grandfather would join us.

We’d spend the day searching the banks for quartz crystals and arrowheads. Maybe we’d fish. Maybe we’d play whiffle ball.

I have no memory of catching fish. I know we tried but I have no memory of catching them. If we did, we’d throw them back.

We’d wade in the water and cool off.

Sometimes we’d have sandwiches and root beer. Other times we’d bring the little grill and have hot dogs.

We kept it simple and just enjoyed our time.

Around dusk we’d pack up head home - a family day well spent.

Other times my dad would gather a couple of neighbor kids and take us all to a different part of the banks of the Aquashicola to go night fishing. Again we’d go in the old wagon with no seat belts or kid limit. My dad also had a fun Jeep we’d cram into. That could take us closer to the creek.

Those days we worried about encountering bats.

Now we worry about not encountering bats. Who knew they’d be wiped out?

My dad smoked cigarettes - he said it kept the mosquitoes away but he would have smoked regardless.

I still don’t remember actually catching fish.

But I do remember one of the neighbor kids. I didn’t know it at the time that we would end up married today.

At that time we were just buddies.

My mom would also take us out looking for salamanders. The red ones were the prettiest. We’d catch them in clear plastic containers and set them up in a tank at home. I have to say my brothers enjoyed this activity more than I did.

We would also grow crystals and do other science experiments my mom would find.

Sometimes my brothers found their own experiments, like the time they put the box turtle on the turntable to see how it would react to spinning around.

Besides the love of nature, my mom and my grandfather got me started with hobbies. Stamp collecting was one of them. We would spend hours sorting stamps from countries that no longer exist. We would send them through the mail to find the right ones to fill our books. We had tiny hinges we’d lick to mount the stamp to the book.

Speaking of books, my mom and I would go off to Krex’s News Agency in Palmerton to look through the racks for books to read. One of the first was Agatha Christie’s “Murder on the Orient Express.”

It started my lifetime love affair with reading everything I could.

We didn’t have a lot of money, but we spent a lot of time together. I don’t remember the specifics of the conversations but I remember we had them.

My husband Ronnie remembers that his family time was spent visiting the uncles, aunts and cousins. They would visit different homes but naturally gravitated to the bigger houses and yards. They’d eat, play baseball until dark.

Neither one of our families spent money on trips (unless it was to the drive-in where we’d also pack snacks).

Our parents made those years special. Turns out it didn’t take a lot of money to make memories.

mgouger@tnonline.com