Good Old Days

Last night I dreamed about the summers in Mashhad, I don't know the reason but I think I've missed those nice days a lot...
When we were children it was hard for my mom to keep us polite and quiet at home. There were a garden near Mashhad where we migrate there at the start of summer holidays and at least stay there for 1 month.My father had planted those fruit trees which he wished and had built the house as he liked. So we had a pool full of fresh water by a near spring in front of us every mornings. There were electricity there but we don't have any modern equipment such as TV or radio or even telephone. Each morning when were asleep my father went to work and we were alone with an old gardener who played the role of our guard at those times.
Yaser and I wake up by the voice of roosters and then after washing our face in that magic water and gulping some breakfasts go into the garden and play with animals and plants until we feel hungry and understand it's time for lunch. In the afternoon we go swimming and then again playings and eatings until night when my father came and that nice day finished.
Now,when I look back at those days, that situation we had was an ordinary one which was a part of life, but now when I'm living in this polluted Tehran and Yaser and his wife are so much far it just seems a dream to repeat those days.
I've missed those calm, long, bright, dirty, tiredig, energized, joyful, healthy, warm days of summers so badly.