Sunset Tales: Reliving the Magic of Our Childhood Summers

 I remember a time when life was much less hurried, when summers were more beautiful, and at 5:30 PM, all the children would go out to play in the street, not returning until nearly 10 PM except for a quick dinner at 8 PM. A time when we would all pile into a van’s cargo area and head to the beach for a half-day, with greasy fries and frozen popsicles. A time when we didn’t think twice about running barefoot on the pavement to buy bread from the van vendor: “ Waħda kbira tar-ratal, "one large loaf, around 800g, waħda tat- tlett soldi "a small maltese roll", and a wahda bebbuxu "one snail shell shaped bun", please.”

A time when we couldn’t be disturbed at 4 PM because the cartoons were on, and heaven forbid anyone planned an outing during an important episode. A time when the door mat at the backyard was never given a break, as everyone was in and out, drinking from the fridge. A time when no one called between 1 PM and 4 PM because it was siesta time, nor after 8 PM. A time when Sunday clothes were reserved for Sundays. A time when we would press our mouths against the fan's grille and speak like robots. A time when we would arrange who would pick up whom to walk to church or the museum. 

A time when bubblegum ice cream was a special treat for us, and digging into a granita would keep us occupied for a whole hour. I remember when everyone would bring out their chairs in the evening, and you’d know all the latest news. Everyone would chat face-to-face, and children would spend hours with their friends and cousins, inventing mischief, building camps, and creating games with rules known only to them. 

Those who fell and bled would get a little yellow ‘hero’ sticker and emerge as heroes among the other children. 😁

Such beautiful times that will never come again… How I wish I could live them once more!

Oh Sweet Times! ❤️❤️❤️