About this whole adult thing....

As I was walking outside today, I heard the cicadas making their funny little sound and it reminded me of when I was a kid living on 10 acres out in the middle of nowhere really (or at least it seemed that way to me). I didn't live there long, but long enough to have good memories. Memories of hot hot summers, cicadas singing their song, the ground so dry it cracked and made odd shaped tiles, a babysitter who refused to take me and my brother to the public pool in town, and of eating homemade ice cream while watching the fireworks shoot off behind the church. Those were easy, simple, good times. Those were times when all I had to worry about was if my brother was going to make a tarantula mad enough to chase us or if my dog would steal my powdered doughnuts out of my hand. Unfortunately we are still in the middle of a hot hot summer and the ground is so dry it's cracking to make those same odd shaped tiles. But fortunately, I don't have a babysitter telling me I can't go to the pool and the cicadas are still singing their song reminding me of that home and all the magic it held.