Today is Labor Day, summer's last holiday which to most Americans means no work and no school, a day to enjoy picnics and barbecues. (The holiday actually celebrates worker's rights attained through decades of efforts by the labor movement.) Labor Day also denotes the symbolic end of summer, and in a time not too far in the past, school began the following day, white purses and shoes were put away, and the pool was taken apart and stored for the winter in the garage.
As children, our summers centered upon this small square wading pool. On the first warm day of early summer, in almost a celebratory manner, its aluminum legs were slid through the vinyl pockets and then bolted together at the corners. A tarp was spread on the ground (presumably to protect the lawn), the garden hose dragged out, and someone was designated to spread out the vinyl evenly as the pool filled (to prevent wrinkles on the bottom). This was a ritual to be repeated almost daily throughout the summer, as the pool was moved to a different spot in the yard. Although a large metal tub, also filled with water, was used to clean feet before entering the pool, seven pairs of feet inevitably tracked in grass clippings and other various flora, so we used a metal sieve (dented from years of use) from Mom's kitchen to skim out the debris.
PS: I love this c.1962 photograph for all the minor details: the little girls with pixie haircuts who had no need for fashionable swimsuits, the patch on the side of the pool, the webbed aluminum chairs and the distinctive bicycle.
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