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Showing posts with label Snapshot Memories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Snapshot Memories. Show all posts

Friday, December 20, 2024

Christmas Snapshot

For several years, we drove two or three times a year from our home in the northern Virginia suburbs of Washington, D.C. to my grandparents' farm in the mountains of southwestern Virginia, near the Tennessee boarder. The trip took about eight hours. Thank heaven for 8-track tapes!

The Christmas trip I'm thinking of must have taken place in 1975, because my sister was a babe in arms. Don't remember anything about it except this one snapshot: Afternoon on an ascending mountain road bordered on both sides with tall, dense growths of evergreen, with no other traffic. It was either snowing lightly or the snow had recently stopped. Snow on the evergreens and a sense of peace, and quiet wonder as the car climbed through the simple yet somehow profound scene. And, this song playing on the car's stereo.

Saturday, September 28, 2024

Pink Canada Mints

The other day, I got a sudden yen for pink Canada mints, something I hadn’t had or even seen in probably fifty years. Google came through, and I was able to order a two pound bag from Amazon.com.

There’s a snapshot memory connected with this particular candy. Mom and I were in an airport waiting area. I must have been ten or under, since it was just the two of us. Everything was gray – the seating, the floor, the walls. Mom had a magazine or a crossword or something in her lap. We were chatting and eating pink Canada mints. No idea where we were or where we were going, just the memory of being in that moment.