I bet each one of you has an umbrella story (or several) to tell. My first memory of an umbrella is probably from the time I was five–or younger–huddling under a huge black umbrella with a wooden handle; at least it seemed huge at the time to my 2.2 feet self. Summer days in the balcony under the fabric, pretending to be in a tent. Kudos to my mom for some quick thinking, eh, in creating the setting for my make-believe world. Also, it was easy to maneuver. And twirl, this way and that. Even then, I yearned for a beach umbrella, of the sort I saw in my books. Huge colorful striped stretches that seemed to house entire families under it, around a picnic table laden with all kinds of goodies. Shelter from the sun. Beach in the distance, waves lapping at the shore. I think that’s one of my “happy” memories. I mean, I have this bunch of “happy” scenes in my head that I draw on when I feel a little low. Later I got my very own mini-umbrella, striped and colorful. Don’t be shocked–I still have it. Decades later, I used it to build the rustic […]
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