It brought back such strong memories from my childhood. My mom tied or quilted her fair share of blankets, and I remember playing underneath them with my sister, Melissa, pretending we were camping or playing house.As I was remembering that, another memory came into my mind.
It was a bright, sunny afternoon. I'm fairly certain this was at our little blue house in Sugar City, Idaho. There was a strong breeze. We were in the backyard and my mom was hanging the bedding on the clothes line to dry. We were playing amongst the blowing sheets. I chose one particular sheet that was "my house," and went between the two halves that were hanging over the line. My sister Melissa chose her own "house" sheet, and we visited each other back and forth. The other sheets became the store, or the church, or the neighbors. I vividly remember laying on my back on the grass and looking up at the billowing roof of my sheet house and feeling the sunshine and the wind on my face. And everything in the world was perfect for that moment.
Today I feel grateful for happy memories, for sisters, for sunshine and wind, for a mom who hung laundry outside on the line, and for imaginations that can make the most ordinary things magical.
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