Today I was given a genuine moment of nostalgia. The new Nat'l Geographic came, and had a story about Russian Summer. It was described on the contents page as: "In vacation cottages . . . they brood, plant, party, and restore their souls." And eat watermelon! A great picture showed a family at a dacha, with cut-up chunks of watermelon, big, bright red and luscious, just as I remember it from my early childhood, when my whole family -- parents, grandparents, aunts and cousins -- gathered at a dacha for a month every summer and vacationed together, enjoying the produce of local farmers and the fun of being together -- "restoring our souls" -- as I think Russians still do and always will, no matter what kind of government they suffer under.
Even after all these years my dear lost family comes back, with that wonderful juicy melon that I still love to eat, and still get messy with juice and nostalgia. Watermelon has always meant summer to me, and always will.