Back yard pools
When my parents were house hunting, way back in 1975, for a house in Southern California, my dad insisted the house have a pool in the back yard, because to him he would not be living in California unless he had a pool. Growing up with a pool definitely defined my childhood, made it absolutely distinct from anything I could have had growing up in Iceland. And it was not a mistake on my dad's part, all four of us kids loved that pool, we really made the best of it. We would play games in there with our friends after school, I would jump in the pool on any hot day and especially after coming home from the beach. And my mom and dad had barbeques with their friends back there from time to time too. It was the center of our household, really.
That tradition continued with the grandkids, especially since the daughters of my oldest brother and my sister are about the same age. We'd heat up the pool any chance we got to get the two of them together. My son Palmer has already been in that pool eight times if my count is right, and I am so proud.
The last time I used the pool was in November, when we were all together for Thanksgiving. We had heated up the jacuzzi, and then my dad brought around a fire ring. We sat there wrapped in towels, a bit cold actually on a November night, and melted marshmellows over the fire, stuffing them into graham crackers with bits of chocolate, to make s'mores (called that because everyone wants "some more"). It was messy and slightly dangerous, but we enjoyed it (except my mom, who was worried we were too cold).
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