Patio furniture brings back a stream of summer memories
Published 1:30 am Sunday, April 17, 2022
Here in the Pacific Northwest we love the outdoors so much that the annual unveiling of patio furniture is something to celebrate. Sunshine breaks through the clouds, spring flowers bloom, and the anticipation for warmer days is hard to bear. Maybe today’s the day to bring out the patio cushions and fire up the grill. Or maybe, not. But one thing is for sure, patio furniture brings back memories.
When my son was a toddler, he’d wake up at 5 a.m. “Let’s look at tools,” he’d tell me. I’d take him to Fred Meyer or Lowes and we’d head to the hardware section. By eight AM, he’d fall asleep in my arms and I’d crash in the patio furniture display area, wishing I could nap too. I probably would have, if I wasn’t surviving on coffee.
By the time my daughter was born we were the proud owners of a patio swing in our back yard. One day I sat in the swing, nursing my daughter, and accidentally dozed off. I awoke to a crow perched five feet away from us, sounding an alarm. Startled, I looked at the crow, worried that I’d agitated it. But seconds later I saw what it was cawing at: an enormous raccoon walking across the grass. The crow was probably trying to scare the raccoon away from its own nest, but my sleep-deprived brain felt sure that the crow was protecting me and my baby. “Thank you,” I said, my eyes misted with tears.
Seven years ago we finally bought a proper table and chairs for our back yard. I drove to IKEA, loaded them in my SUV, and assembled them myself. Well, most of them. There were some tricky parts that my husband helped with. “Let’s eat outside all summer long,” I told him. Unfortunately, a few days later I fell while ice skating and broke my wrist. My plans for a summer of alfresco dining were replaced by trips to the doctor, surgeon and physical therapist.
But in 2020 that outdoor table and chair set came in really handy when my writing group began meeting outside, way far away from each other. One chair would be by the raspberries, and another by the fuchsias. A third would get the shady spot under the big leaf maple tree, and the fourth was over by the sliding glass door. “I have new pages for you to read,” someone would call out across the void.
Last year, in a fit of boldness, I purchased an egg-shaped chair that hangs from a stand. I thought it would be fun for my daughter to hang out in. A couple of weeks later I was struck with Transient Global Amnesia and forgot that I had purchased it. One of the first memories that “stuck” after my TGA was my husband showing me pictures in the hospital of the new chair. “I bought that?” I kept asking him. “Wow.”
Hopefully nothing dramatic will happen this year when I bring out my patio furniture. But still I ask myself: “Do I feel lucky?” Yes, the calendar says it’s late April, but with Western Washington weather, that’s meaningless. I could drag out the cushions, tie the little strings, and recline in my chair only to be dumped on 30 minutes later. Patio-furniture roulette is a dangerous game to play.
Jennifer Bardsley publishes books under her own name and the pseudonym Louise Cypress. Find her online on Instagram @jenniferbardsleyauthor, on Twitter @jennbardsley or on Facebook as Jennifer Bardsley Author. Email her at teachingmybabytoread@gmail.com.
