The corners of my mind

... as in memories, like the corners of my mind. I was painting a wood floor with grey floor paint and all I could think about was summers in Atlantic City, NJ in the 1970s. We stayed with my grandfather and visited aunts and uncles and cousins at either their summer houses or their year-round houses in Ventnor, Margate, and Stone Harbor. Someone, I'm thinking my Aunt Elaine, had a wood floor painted grey with white trim. So watching my floor turn grey made me think of the sound of Jitneys:

and the taste of ripe Jersey peaches and blueberries, and the smell of the ocean, and my grandfather's smile, and the sound of his grandfather's clock chiming, and the taste of orange creamsicles that the ice cream vendor sold on the beach, and having sand between my toes, and a million other memories. I had the most fantastic summers as a child. The food in Ulster in the 1970s was pretty bad, so going to the states to have fresh produce and good ice cream created indelible memories. And my mother was so happy when she visited her family, which made me happy. And the corn! I could live on Jersey sweet corn. We made homemade peach ice cream with my Uncle Bill. I can't think of a more idyllic way to spend a summer than with your cousins at the Jersey shore.
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