We watched and laughed like drunken hyenas as the juice spilled all over the patio, much to the delight of the ants who licked their chops over that daily sticky treat. And the dangerously broken swing set in that 1956 backyard added just the right touch of decadence.
Camp sure was "camp." This is a true bittersweet memory that over time has become a cult classic. It's my madeleine.