summer memories

I don't necessarily have a lot of great childhood memories and not because I didn't have a good childhood, but because I just don't remember things that happened. In fact, my dear cousin will remind me of stories about things we did together and quite often I ask her if she is making it up. But there are some memories that really stand out.

For example:
Our family had a cabin at what we called "the campsite." The cabin sat on the edge of a large meadow that had a stream (Hog Creek, as we called it) running through. Every summer cousin A and I would catch tiny fish, run from even the smallest of snakes, and play on the "jumping log," a half log that stuck out over the creek and was quite bouncy. We also enjoyed playing with "cha-cha-chee-chee snow," sawdust that is so old it has turned red. We used to throw it up in the air and pretend it was snowing. We built forts, played on the swing made by our grandfather, took outdoor showers, made s'mores, sang campfire songs, went for bike rides, and spent long days making up stories and pretending we were famous. Those summers at the campsite are some of the best memories a girl can have.