The Summertime Scent

 My childhood summertime memories come back to me. The rocking chairs on the Catskill Old House are going back and forth, back and forth. A perfect place for children waiting for lunch on a rainy day. Out of the heat of the communal kitchen comes the aroma of each woman cooking on her own gas range and shared oven. The scent mixes with the rainy summer breeze. Soon it will be lunchtime. Each of the eight families has an oilcloth covered table in this kuchaleyn ( where you cook on your own as compared to a chef cooking at hotels}. Momma has been cooking in her tall white enamel pot. She is cooking the blueberries poppa and I picked the day before. Poppa brought back his tall aluminum pail brimming with the plump ripe berries: I brought back a small brimming sand pail with my pick..  She is  baking the pies with the blueberries poppa and I picked. The scent wafting out of the kitchen on to the porch will remind me of all the delicious treats in store. Momma with her blue stained fingers and blue stained apron is my Blueberry Queen. She will be turning out an array of blueberry jams, blueberry blintzes, blueberry pierogi and blueberry pies. Cold washed blueberries on cold white sour cream will be a frequent lunchtime meal. 

Eighty years later, all these are only memories, but the scent remains whenever I pass the berry counter in the local fruit store.

Ethyl Haber