Quote:
Originally Posted by CFrance
Lake Erie--the sound of the waves and the wind, and the seagulls crying over the top of them. We had a house a block or two from the beach, so everyone would pile into the cars and go down to the beach for the day, bringing blankets and a picnic and swim toys. We'd build a fire--the smell of the fire and the sounds of crackling wood. The aroma of hotdogs cooking on sticks. But most of all the smell and taste of my mother's amazing potato salad. The taste of the first chomp into a baloney and mayo sandwich. The dampish-cool feel of the sand after the sun went down. Then of course the marshmallows burning. Sigh.
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Oh, and I forgot Reymer's Lemon Blend
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