| T O P I C R E V I E W |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 19 2006 : 10:13:48 PM
Think of one of the memorable homes you grew up in during your childhood. Describe the rooms .. and any memories or feelings those rooms conjure up .. Did you have a 'favorite' room in this house ... especially describe this room and tell us about your life in it and why it was special to you. What was your 'neighborhood' like? Oh just ramble on as much as you like in sharing your stories with us. (remember .. keep these to share with your children and get them to tell you their childhood memories too!) You don't have to tell it all at once . .just keep hopping back in from time to time as new thoughts and old feelings come to mind. xo, frannie
p.s. i'm gonna hit the bed right now .. but will tell stories of my row house in Washington, D.C. where i lived from the beginning of my memory .. through the 11th grade. (2020 C Street, N.E., Washington, D.C. .. just 20 blocks from our Nation's Capitol).
True Friends, Frannie |
| 23 L A T E S T R E P L I E S (Newest First) |
| asnedecor |
Posted - May 23 2006 : 06:47:34 AM
Jenny -
Isn't it amazing how you remember the little items that are on the kitchen window sill. My grandma had a brownish/green fat pig pot that had a little cactus in it and a set of chickens (rooster with a rose and his love a little hen) and then a dancing pig little figurines. When Grandma passed away, my sister got the pig pot and I got the figurines. I just love the rooster and hen. My grandma's house was on the same property as my parents, her house was west of ours about 2 acres away. It was a small house her and grandpa built. Grandpa passed away a few years after they moved in, so it really was grandma's place. It was only about 1000 square feet, little tiny ranch style. It too had a big picture window that faced the west and looked at a blueberry field, her kitchen window faced east toward our house. Always at Christmas, before we would get Mom and Dad up, we would look out toward grandma's house from our upstairs hall window to see if the light was on in the kitchen. Sure enough it always was, so we would call grandma to come over and then get mom and dad up, this way dad couldn't say it was too early because we would say grandma is on her way.
Grandma also had a breeze way between the garage and the backdoor, it was always cool there even on the hottest days. In fact my childhood dog, tippy, knew this and when it would get really, really, hot, you could always find her there sleeping in grandma's breeze way.
Anne
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| farmfilly |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 10:24:24 PM
We moved many, many times as I was growing up. My father having died when I was a toddler, Mom was always on the move looking for something or someone to fill that big emptiness, and she dragged us right along with her. So the one stable place was my grandparents house. I loved it there! Every summer each of us grandkids got 2 weeks on our own at their house. Granny and Pa lived outside of a little tiny community that didn't even have a postoffice anymore. I'll tell you all about the old country store and such in another post, but now on to Granny's house.
It was just a simple litte farm house. It was always painted white with soft colors as trim around the windows and on the porch posts. In the living room was a huge 'picture' window and Granny always had climbing red roses encircling that window. It was quite a site. There was a modest sized front porch where Granny and Pa sat every night while us kids collected our mayonaise jar full of fireflies for the bedside. I remember the yard was my Granny's pride, it was a thick, luxurious carpet of St Augustine grass, always kept perfectly trimmed. You could just roll in it!
Inside, the front bedroom, the smallest of three, was always reserved for company. Most of my childhood, it was painted a pale lavender, with airey white ruffled sheers at the windows and a peacock chenille bedspread on the high fourposter bed. In the winter, Granny put a feather mattress on top of the cotton one and loaded the bed up with heavy quilts, you could hardly move under the covers. Once you got 'your spot' warm, it so cozy, I loved it!
The living room was really too small with too many doors for furniture arranging, and had low 7 ft ceilings. I remember my uncles whacking their heads on the light fixture and the door frame several times, but they were both over 6'5". There was always this terribly ugly orange recliner in the corner by the heater. It was my Pa's chair, and he had his side table all set up with his radio, lamp, bible, and reading glasses. He read his bible everynight before bed and then turned the lights out. That was your signal to turn off all lights, if you hadn't yet - no exceptions. In the morning Pa got up at 6 am and turned the radio on. He listened to a local channel from the county seat. They'd give the weather and the obits. If it was cool, he'd light the heater and then go back to bed. At seven, he got up again and turned the radio back on. Again, we listened to the weather and the obits. Then he'd dress and go out to milk old Bossy and feed. By 7:30 Granny was up and stirring around in the kitchen. Eight o'clock the radio was turned on again, I always wondered if my Pa expected the to weather change or someone else to die before breakfast. (I also wondered why the whole bunch of us didn't just get up and stay up at 6, since you barely got back to sleep before that radio came on again.)
Gettin up at night meant a trip to the potty room. There was a room set aside for a bathroom (maybe partitioned off of the big dining room), but the plumbing wasn't installed until I was about twelve. Pa had built a fancy wooden potty chair with a closing lid. I never remember seeing anyone empty that chamber pot. I think it was my Pa's job - meant to get him to hurry up with putting the real bathroom in. Maybe that was one of the morning jobs. I know if you didn't go in the wee hours of the morning, you had to use the outhouse, which seemed to me to be halfway across the cow patch, and Bossy didn't like me. More than one time I ran out to the toilet to do my business, only to have Bossy mosey over and lean against the door so you couldn't get out. It can get pretty miserable in a Texas outhouse in the summertime while your yelling for Pa to come get you out. He'd think it was quite funny unless it interupted a project, then I'd get a lecture about how old Bossy wouldn't hurt anybody, etc, etc. If he got carried away with his lecture and thought he had hurt my feelings I usually got to go to the sale barn with him. I hated that milk cow, but I loved those trips to the sale barn. By the time I was 8 , I'd been to every salebarn for counties around.
Before the 'real' bathroom was installed we took our summer baths on the screened back porch in a huge old galvinized tub. In the winter, the tub was moved into the 'bathroom' with the potty chair. I didn't miss that potty chair at all, and sure never missed trips to the outhouse, but I kinda enjoyed bathing in that tin tub on the screen porch.
There was a small kichen with beautiful pine cabinets made by my great uncle. I made my first cake in that kitchen the summer I was 8. Granny was right there, but let me do everything but light the oven in the huge old gas stove. It was a chocolate mayonaise cake - good too. I learn to can and make jelly right there with my Granny too, but I never quite mastered her bisquits. She said Pa taught her how to cook when they got married. Her Dad had died when she was 3 and her Mom when she was 6, so she had lived from relative to relative till she and my uncles moved into their own house when she was twelve. She knew all about cleaning though, had been doing that for her keep since she was big enough to swing a broom. She turned out to be a really good cook, but she never stopped swinging that broom either. That woman expected you to help clean down all the walls once a week. Mopping the kitchen floor nightly, even I could see that as a kid, especially with menfolk and kids running in and out all day, but wiping down the walls kinda took the fun outta helping Granny. I did enjoy washday though. For years they still had an old wringer washer. In summer, Pa would move the double tub washer out of the wash house and put it under the shade of the big old chinaberry tree in the backyard. He'd attach the extra long hose so all the water would drain out into the pasture and hook up the water hoses to the hot and cold water in the wash house. I remember once my little sister getting her arm in the wringer, of course she was so skinny it hardly even flattened it out, but she did get a bowl of 'mellerine' out of it.
Do ya'll remember mellerine? I'm not quite sure what it was made of and I don't think it exits anymore. Sorta a fake/cheap ice cream I think, maybe a leftover invention of WWII rationing. It came in a square paper carton and was a great treat in the summer. Granny and Pa always had a good supply of vanilla and strawberry in the freezer.
Well, its getting late, I'll come back and talk more. Sure been nice to revisit Granny and Pa's house.
Jackie |
| sleepless reader |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 07:49:26 AM
I started my life on a small farm, then we lived in your basic tract houses (3 different ones), the best part of the first tract house being the neighborhood, not the house. What I have the best memories of is actually my paternal grandparents apartment. They lived on the fourth floor (floors 1-3 were offices, 4 & 5 were living spaces, 6 was the attic!!!) of the coolest apartment I've ever known. The ceilings were about 15 feet high. The windows were about 10 feet tall (not a child's exerageration). There were pocket doors to divide the living room from the dining room. All of the doors had transome windows above, which made eavesdropping on older cousins or parents a breeze! The bathroom had a wonderful clawfoot tub that I still crave. Grandma's kitchen was small, but she did pleanty there. She baked fresh bread two or three times a week and the kitchen always smelled like fresh paint and baked bread. Grandma and Pap had seperate bedrooms (the older I get, the better I understand this concept). Pap's was large and had a huge window that we'd sit at and watch parades go by (they lived on the main drag), but the grand kids never slept in Pap's room. Grandma's room was a bit smaller, still had a big window too facing the street. It's probably a miracle none of us ever went out that window. She had twin beds and that's where visiting kids slept. There was a very scary picture on the wall of her mother. It was a head shot in an oval frame. I have a smaller version of the whole picture, which isn't scary with the whole person in it :). In the back of the apartment, off the kitchen was another big bedroom that had a bed, but was really our playroom. There was a tin dollhouse there (I'd love one of those for my daughter)and great stuffed friends (Charlie the sock monkey, Frankie the tiny bear...looked like Frank Sinatra).Somedays we went up to the attic with Grandma or Pap to get stuff they had stored up there. It was a huge, open space as big as the building, dusty, wooden floors, big windows. The basement was where we went to do laundry. It was dark and musty and frightening. The building is still there in Latrobe, PA, but I think it's been converted to offices now.
Thanks for asking...
Sharon
Life is messy. Wear your apron! |
| dargaonfly1054 |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 07:39:48 AM
I am at work with no work to do .... so am trying to look busy while reading all this fun stuff you all share with all us farmgirls. My relationship with my sister absolutely kills me. She is so UN-supportive and UN-sympathetic. I also have an older half brother and sister and my relationship with them is wonderful. But they are old enough to be my parents. I am afraid I don't agree that having a sister is having a forever friend. Nope, not at all........... now my daugher....that is a different story. She and I did not see eye to eye when she was a teenager (no surprise there) but now she is 26, very soon to be 27 and we really are the best of friends. We share everything. Dont know what I would do without her.
"We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk..." Thoreau |
| ladybugsmom6 |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 07:27:07 AM
Oh I love all these sister sharing stories! I am the oldest of 6 kids, and I only had one brother! We shared alot of rooms and beds. (even in the seven bedroom house, there I was the only one to get my own room, ever, and that was short lived!) I remember when we were little sharing with my next younger sister(who was much cooler than this country bumpkin!) We would lay in our Queen sized bed and start stories, taking turns telling our made up tales, She would make up a few sentences then I would back and forth through the night. We would also trace pictures on esch others backs and try to guess what they were. That was very relaxing, and we didnt even know the wonder of massage!I dint share long with her. We fought like cats and dogs. And still have a very distant relationship.But a younger sister4 and even my brother that I did share with, I am much closer to. And sister2 who shared with sister3 are the very best friends. They are still closer than any school cum they have ever known.
This has led me to a theory that I am convinced of... It is essentaial that sisters share rooms no matter how tough it gets. They learn conflict resolution and have forever friendships. We move so often in our live and meet so many people that our sister friends are the very most important, we will always have family. I do wish my mom would have helped sister2 and I work through our spouting, I do miss her! Even if she is still a fashion star next to my faded blue jeans and flannel shirt!
My girls though will have the best room sharing horror stories! I have 4 girls crammed into one room and the 3 little ones share and 8X8 bed room...Does love grow best in houses like this??!
-Tami
now ladybugsmom7 |
| asnedecor |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 07:01:53 AM
Georgette -
Yes, I grew up here in Oregon. All three of us kids were born in Sacramento, CA, but we came up here at an early age. What is funny is none of my immediate family is from Oregon. My dad is from Germany and my mom is from Illinois. Then I marry a native Oregonian and his family has this huge history based here in Portland that goes back a couple of generations. Yes, having my sister first in Virginia and now in Alaska has helped our relationship immensely. We are great together for about 2 to 3 hours, if it is longer we end up arguing about stupid stuff - oh well, what are sisters for.
Anne
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| dargaonfly1054 |
Posted - May 22 2006 : 03:14:03 AM
Anne, I am glad for you.....that you and your sister get along better. Not the case here. She is into stuff, posessions (I can not for the life of me spell that word this morning) and I am more down to earth, don't care what people look like and can get along with most everyone if they are nice to me. I thought that when I got the job I have (been there 8 years) we would be working in the same town and we could get closer........man, the opposite has happened. We could not be any more distant if I lived with you out in Oregon!! Oh, well, I can't do anything about it. But sometimes it sure does bring me down that I can't talk to my sister about stuff. You grew up in Oregon?
Georgette
"We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk..." Thoreau |
| Aunt Jenny |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 9:33:03 PM
My childhood home of my memories was my maternal grandparents home. We moved alot when I was growing up and their place was always there and could be counted on to be always the same. Very important to me. They lived in a small three bedroom one bath house that they built themselves when my mom was small. At one time they owned a dairy farm raising Jersey cows across the road but had by the time I was little had sold the extra property and the cows and my grandpa worked as a welder and fix it guy for the local school district.
I called my grandpa Pappy and grandma was called Mom.
Mom and Pappy's house was a white clapboard house with a cute little gingerbread trimmed porch and the trim on the house was painted different colors over the years..even turquiose at one time..yikes! But the house was always always white. It had a big attic room where we all stayed sometimes and that room had a dormer window that looked out toward the road.
The house had a long hall with the bathroom at one end and a full length mirror at the other end. We used to always play in front of that mirror. My oldest boys did the same when they were little.
The floor creaked when you walked and I loved that sound. My grandma wanted rounded arched doorways into the hall and kitchen so my grandpa made them that way. When I found our house that we live in now that was one of the most comforting special things that helped me know that this was the place for us..we have an arched doorway into our kitchen.
My grandpa built all the cabinets in the kitchen..lots of them..and there was a long counter top for working at. We always came into the house through the back door into the kitchen and growing up I would always find my grandma at the counter baking or doing something. Her kitchen always smelled heavenly. There was a big deep windowsill over the sink that looked out to the front yard and driveway and there were things that we considered special treasures that were always there. A little cow planter that Mom put loose change into, a set of tombstone salt and pepper shakers from Tombstone ariz. that we all had the little verse memorized on (Salty O'Day..A good strong rope and an old oak tree and Salty isn't what he used to be, and Pepper Tate ..He was right, we was wrong, but we strung him up and now he's gone) I have those things now.
My grandma kept her sewing machine in one corner of the kitchen and there was always a project going. That is where I learned to sew.
The living room had two big picture windows..one facing toward the driveway and one facing toward the road out front...the Christmas tree looked wonderful in front of them. My grandma alternated which window got the tree each year. The front door had a screen door too...a creaky wonderful wood framed one. I wish I had that now!!
About 5o ft. behind the house was a small creek and we had a blast playing there ....blackberries (and stinging nettles to keep us in line) grew like crazy on that creek. Over the creek (there was a footbridge) was the pasture where some of my grandpa's horses were.
He also always had corrals and a hay barn to the south side of the garage and kept ponies for us to ride...quarterhorses when we got older. There was an orchard with apricot and apple trees too.
On the north side of the house was the veggie garden, clothesline and sheds and the chicken house...my favorite area. I played farmer there my whole childhood. I was the oldest and more than a little bossy so it was MY farm and my brother, sister and cousins were the farmhands. I made the rules and told them what to do. What fun (for me)
Mom died in '92 and Pappy in '94. My uncle stayed there in the house (he had lived with them the last few years of their lives) and then when he and my mom (the only children) sold the house I wanted to buy it desperatly and cried many many nights over the fact that I was the only one who treasured that place. No one else thought of it the way I did!! I couldn't afford it. WAs single at the time and real estate prices were so high.
Every time I go back to my hometown I try NOT to drive out that country road to see how the house looks..but I have to! So far I have been pleased. It is a little run down and the trim color hasn't changed in alot of years but it still has the horseshoe fence and arches into the front yard that my grandpa made years ago and the trees and yard all look the same. No animals but a lazy dog the last time I saw it..2 years ago. I would still buy it in a heartbeat if I ever could...it is home to me and always will be. I hope my kids feel that way about THIS place some day.
Jenny in Utah
Inside me there is a skinny woman crying to get out...but I can usually shut her up with cookies
http://www.auntjennysworld.blogspot.com/ visit my little online shop at www.auntjenny.etsy.com |
| asnedecor |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 4:59:20 PM
Georgette -
I have the same memories of my sister, she was 4 years older then me. Thank god my brother was the middle child, he took some of the punches for me. Also our room sharing was short lived only a few years and then we got our own rooms. Like you, no singing, no reading a book to me, it was more, "Don't Touch My Stuff", "That is your side of the room", etc. Now as a adults we get a long much better, she lives in Alaska - so that is the perfect distance from me here in Oregon. 
Anne
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| dargaonfly1054 |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 1:11:35 PM
Frannie, it sounds like you had a wonderful sister!! How much older was she? I have a sister 5 years older than me and when we shared a room and a bed, I can remember her always yelling at me to lay still! Sing to me?? I don't think so.........and read to her little sister?? I think she was a little upset when I was born, to say the least. My parents were 43 and 45 when I was born so was born into an older family. I was born in Rochester New York and moved to northern New York (Dickinson Center-very small) when I was 4. We moved in with my mother's parents and what an absolutely wonderful place to grow up. Big old house, woods to play in, streams nearby.........in so many ways a piece of heaven.
"We need the tonic of wildness, to wade sometimes in marshes where the bittern and the meadow-hen lurk..." Thoreau |
| Mumof3 |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 12:15:19 PM
Oh my goodness Frannie- what a choice! I bet Elvis won! 
My parents live right next door to me. They moved here 6 1/2 years ago. Hmmmm. It seems longer.........No really, it's fine!
We are just south of Atlanta, in Henry Co. I haven't heard of Oakman. I will have to get out my map and see where it is. My family loves to take day trips- we may just have to put Oakman on the list!!
Karin |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 09:06:05 AM
anne .. my sister and i shared a bedroom when i was a 'little one' .. oh how i treasure those memories of how she would snuggle me at night and sing softly to me .. and tell me stories after the lights were out .. sometimes we would play the radio real low .. or shine a flashlight under the covers while she would read to me.
HOWEVER .. when we became 'teenagers' .. we both wanted our OWN rooms. We had quite an extended family .. two aunts, an uncle and new baby cousin, my dad, my brother, my sister and me. There were two bedrooms up for grabs in our teens .. one of us could have her OWN bedroom .. the other had to 'share' with an aunt .. BUT .. she got a TELEPHONE in her room! My sister being a year older chose the aunt and phone! HA! looking back . .it is a wonder to me that that was her choice .. what with the aunt being there .. THEN ... in retrospect .. i remember that my aunt worked at the telphone company as an 'operator' until midnight .. soooooo .. i guess my sister got all her calling in before then. I don't remember missing the phone.
HA! this all reminds me of another story ... i had one of those dressers with a big round vanity mirror on it .. i remember one day .. my aunt came down and saw that i had cut out pictures of both JESUS and ELVIS and had them taped to my mirror .. i remember her telling me that was 'sacriligious' .. and i had to CHOOSE ... HA! what i don't remember is WHO ONE!
ahhhhhh what fun .. those teen years during the 1950's!!!
xoxo
True Friends, Frannie |
| asnedecor |
Posted - May 21 2006 : 08:25:19 AM
Frannie -
Yes, the daisies are from the late 60's early 70's. Remember when contact paper came out to be used for papering cupboard shelves etc. I think that is what she used. I also remember my dad built us girls a large book shelf for our books, etc and my sister had a horse collection. She got the top 3 shelves and I got the bottom one, and I was not to touch her stuff. Oh living in the same room with an older sister . The little red barn with the farm animals was my favorite, when I got older (around 8 or so) I got a big barn that opened up on one side and it had chickens, ducks and a tractor too. I loved all that barn stuff.
Anne
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| ladybugsmom6 |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 4:53:23 PM
Dont ya just love old houses! The stories they acn tell, the love you can feel oozing out of the cracks in the corners from settling that just make you feel so safe and comfy. Old Houses are like warm grandpas!
I have two favorite old houses.... My Grandpa's house is the first I ever remember. I spent alot of time with them. Grandpa was a farmer, among many other things, like carpenter, and in addition to the back mud room that smelled much like the barn but less intensly,( It smelled like warm cows and fresh hay even in Febuary!)I remember the big box of old wool socks ad scarves in the front doorway, for all the grandkids who forgot it was so much fun to play in the cold! Grandma was a seamstress, she always had projects going when I was little, she made stuffed animals and wedding dresses and everything in between. I remember bags of stuffing in this little closet under the eves. Now grandpa was an Irish man, always telling stories, I thought that little closet was where the leprachauns lived! I loved the basement, dark and dingy, but safe because that was my uncles' room! They burned wood in the furnace down there....it always smelled sooo good. I still love the smell of sawdust and can almost tell you the species of wood by the smell of the dust!(but that is another topic!) Can you believe 11 kids in a 3 bedroom house? Love grew there!
My second favorite house we moved into when i was in 5th grade...it was the biggest house i had ever seen...7 bedrooms. It was so old that it had 3 cellers under the basement! that was spoooky when we first moved in. Our first night there a good friend, who helped us move, played spooky music on our little organ, and none of us wanted to sleep that night! It had big bay windows, huge screened porches with walls a foot thick. Those walls were covered with little pea gravel, they felt so smooth under your fingers. I think we had the most fun in the attic! It was a huge walk up attic, we always talked about putting more rooms up there. I voted for a darkroom and an art room, so we didnt have to worry about the messes! We sure made some great messes up there playing Barbies. We would build towns, with houses for each of us, and stores to work and shop in. I was the oldest of 6 kids, and we always had 4 foster kids staying with us, and our town only took up 1/4 of the attic floor. I wont forget my sister bringing home her teacher's chalk and drawing out the roads! We also had a 180 ft long barn, few animals, but it was a great place to play! we had one horse for a while 8 piglets, till we ate them, chickens by the herd during the summer, But it was up stairs that we loved to play in! There were two openings in the floor that we had to watch for(hay shoots). One day my preschool brother didnt watch... He walked backwards right over the hole and fell to the concrete below right in front of my dad who was fixing his old ford tractor. Dad was so scared, but my little brother was just fine.This was also where we lived when my sister who was in Kg was so wrapped up in play that she did not hear Dad drive in. She was so excited to hear his voice when he walked in that she tripped over his steel toes boots and broke her leg. i will never forget helping to pull her through the snow on a sled to get out of the lane because we had such a snowstorm that we had an 8 ft drift down most of our drive way!
I pray so for an old farm house and my carpenter hubby so want to buid for us! Hmmmm. We will wait and see!
Thanks for this great thread!
-Tami
now ladybugsmom7 |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 3:45:39 PM
Karin .. i am so very sorry to hear about your dad's accident and illness that came from it. Are your parents still lin Florida? I take it you are from Georgia from your signature block. What part of Georgia? My momma was from OAKMAN, Georgia.
Little Catherine Jane would be in her SIXTIES now .. but she will always be a precious child in my heart of memories. xo
True Friends, Frannie |
| Mumof3 |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 12:09:45 PM
Hi Frannie- The house is still there, generating new stories as we speak. We moved in 1976, just before I graduated from high school. My dad was not well. He had an accident taking wallpaper down with an old garden sprayer. The bottom was rusty, and when he pumped it up to get water pressure, it exploded and hit him in the face. His health never was the same from then on. We moved to Florida after my brother graduated from HS in 1977.
I did go back in 1976 for my 20th HS reunion. One of our old neighbors took me over to see the house, the owners were on vacation. The kitchen door was unlocked, just as we used to leave it, so I was able to go inside. It had changed a bit, but the feel of the house was still there. It was nice to go back.
Your story about your cousin broke my heart. What a precious girl she must have been. I am glad you have happy memories of her.
Karin
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 10:02:43 AM
anne .. your little red barn with the farm animals .. what memories that brought back .. i found one in an antiques shoppe a couple years ago and got it for our grandson.
i just can't get all nostalgic and teary eyed about all the 'power rangers' and other toys of destruction! but i guess (if we still HAVE a planet) 50 years or so .. the kids who play with them to day will have nostalgic memories about them .. much like the children of the 1940's and '50's do about plastic 'cowboys and indians'.
your momma cutting out big daisies to decorate our walls brought a smile to my lips .. was that during the 1960's? (the flower-power era) xo, frannie
True Friends, Frannie |
| asnedecor |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 09:51:46 AM
First house I lived in, don't remember much - it was a "track" home in Sacramento, small on a very large lot. We moved from there when I was 3. Dad was being laid off from Aerojet at the time and they were helping families relocate. He looked in California but didn't find anything and my mom suggested trying up in Oregon. He found work in Portland. At this time my grandparents had a small farm just outside Woodburn that they were going to sell. My parents talked them into selling to them and building a new house on the property so they could stay close by. Dad moved me up here first, we drove up in his little blue VW beetle. I played in the back with the seat down, had a little red barn with farm animals that I kept loosing in the cracks of the seat. I stayed with Grandma and Grandpa while he went back down to Sacramento to pack up Mom and let my older sister and brother finish the school year and then a month later they were with me in Oregon. Grandma and Grandpa lived with us for about 6 months while their new house was being built. When they moved out, my parents started the long road to remodeling our house, cleaning and fixing up the farm. Before we had separate rooms, my sister and I shared a room that was upstairs under the eaves of the house. Mom painted it sunny yellow and then cut out large daisies from either wallpaper or wrapping paper and glued them to the walls in a random pattern. It was a big room, but I loved the yellow sunny look. Over the next 15+ years the house changed constantly as my parents fixed it up. Got my own room and we kids got a bathroom upstairs for us. It was a comfortable home and we lived there until we were adults. My parents sold the farm about 12 years ago. I miss the farm some, especially the open spaces and all of the animals we had, also the secret hiding places where my dog and I would go to play with dolls or hide and seek. Yes, my dog was good at hide and seek.
Anne
"Second star to the right, straight on till morning" Peter Pan
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| celebrate2727 |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 09:16:21 AM
Frannie I too had tears pouring from that sweet sad story. How our young memories stay with us. Thank you for sharing someting so close to your heart. XOXO
blessings
beth
Dreaming of Friday Night Lights
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| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 08:29:04 AM
oh karin .. what a treasure of a home! and the Borning Room .. i can just see the souls of the little angels born there guarding and protecting your little sisters as they slept! the stories .. the lives .. the histories of your home .. your way of telling of them ... are just breath-taking! does the home still stand? who did your family sell it to .. and why did you move away? do you ever go back to visit?
isn't this fun to reach back into our memories 'bank' and withdraw these stories .. and oh the sharing .. how precious! we have all now added all us farmgirls to these stories .. we are now a little part of each of our childhood places .. just for the sharing of our stories.
True Friends, Frannie |
| CabinCreek-Kentucky |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 08:19:51 AM
oh beth .. i love hearing of your cousin Kimmy's room and your memories of her home. 'back then' it seems our families' homes were our own.
i often visited (and stayed for the summers of my youth) at my counsin Catherine Jane sweet little home near Mt. Vernon Virginia. Big wide open yards to run and play and dig-about in .. on a little sideroad without all the traffic whizzing by frantic to get to Washington, D.C. They had a huge weeping willow tree in the front yard that i remember we kids had the responsibility to 'rake' the leaves from the ground each autumn .. and oh my .. how frustrated i would get when those skinny little leaves seemed to 'cheerfully' hop and bounce from the rake as i tried to gather them all in!
I especially remember playing in her attic as a child .. with her grandmother's late 1800's and her mama's early 1900's clothing hung on racks ... and trunks filled with toys and treasures .. i guess maybe that is where my love of 'olde' first started sweetening my soul! I can stil hear the rain on the roof as we would dress up and giggle and play house (i was older .. so i always got to be the 'mama'.)
Sadly, when i was but 16 years olde, my precious Catherine Jane who was like my little sister died. Her appendix had ruptured and was slowly poisoning her little body. The doctor examined her but never took blood tests .. and other than a 'sick stomach' .. there was no acute pain. In the middle of the night of her last night on earth .. she screamed from her bedroom to her mother and dad's bedroom: "I'm going to die". They rushed to her room .. her mom cradled her sweet little body in her arms as her dad rushed to call an ambulance. Catherine Jane asked her mother to sing her a song. Aunt Nell frantically started singing a little rhyme to her .. Catherine Jane looked into her eyes and calmly said, "no mommy, sing me a hymn" .. tears poured from Aunt Nell's eyes as she held Catherine Jane close and tight in her arms and rocked her as she sang "Jesus Loves Me .. This I Know". Catherine Jane smiled and took her last breath on this earth. Oh God, just writing this story brings back such bittersweet memories and tears are again flowing from my eyes and my heart. I have missed her all my life .. but know that someday we will be together again.
Yes, memories are happy and memories are sad .. and they are all a part of this wonderful journey we call 'life'. xo, frannie
True Friends, Frannie |
| Mumof3 |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 07:51:48 AM
Ah, a subject close to my heart! The home I grew up in was a 12 room Colonial in Marshfield, Mass. The original part of the house was built in 1668, with additions built in the 1700 and 1800's. This house was made for children, which was good because there were 5 of us! My favorite room was the Borning Room, which was a small room off of the kitchen. The Borning Room's purpose was exactly what it sounds like- babies were born there during the house's early life. This is where my little sisters slept when they were babies, during the day. After that need was fulfilled, a small sofa and table were added, along with a pie safe which held books. That was the quiet place, where I could sit and read and get lost. The window in this room is the one my father would peek out of when I came home from dates, just to make sure no smooching occured!! I always knew he was there. My first bedroom had a fireplace, along side which had a small door which hid the "smoking closet." There, meats were smoked and cured for future use in the long winter months. When the door was opened, you could still smell the smoky scent of hams. When my sisters came along, I moved to a bedroom across the house, which had it's own stairway leading down to a small hallway. This went between my Dad's office and the family room. I remember one morning, when I was about 10, coming down the stairs to find a trail of perfectly formed miniature horseshoe prints ( in white paint,no less!!). I just knew that somewhere in the house was a tiny horse!! It also was about that time that I was reading The Borrowers series by Mary Norton and just knew we had those as well! We never did find the source of the horseshoe prints. Who knows, maybe the next little girls who lived in the house found some as well, and the mystery still carries on.
The living room had a small closet door that led to a plain room, very small that wrapped around behind the fireplace. A small window looked out onto the front staircase. This was the "Indian closet" where the family could hide in case of an "attack." Remember, the house was built only 48 years after the Pilgrims landed. That closet was the best place to hide during Hide-and-Seek, unless your brother decided to close the door shut. Then you were stuck until Mom came and let you out. My goodness, I could go on and on about this house. The other place I remember is the main attic space, where along the chimney, my dad found loose boards. Ever the curious one, he lifted them to find the small step-like bricks lined with bottles left over from Prohibition. This was also the scariest part of the house. I just knew that ghosts lurked up there!
We had a large barn that held the horses and the chicken coop. An enormous raspberry patch was in the middle of one field, with a rhubarb patch further out along the stone wall that separated us from our neighbors. My father took down a small garage and created a duck pond for our little ducklings we received from the Easter Bunny one year.
The family we bought the house from lived with us for about 2 months until their house was finished- right behind ours. Gram Milner became my best friend during those months. Being new to the area, and very shy, I quickly bonded with this small, frail but spunky woman. I think she was in her 80's at the time. I would sit with her for hours listening to stories of her childhood and eating Canada mints as a treat. Even when they moved into their tiny new house, I would go visit. My mom always knew where I was if I wasn't in the yard. A quick ring of the cowbell brought me home, reluctantly.
I think I could go on forever, so I will stop here.
Thank you Frannie, for allowing me to go to one of the happiest places of my life.
Karin |
| celebrate2727 |
Posted - May 20 2006 : 06:24:19 AM
Don't really remember my first house in St Louis, moved when I was 5. After the move to NY we lived in the same house for years, my mom just sold it this past January. Now let me tell you of my Aunt and Uncles house. It was in Wayne PA, a suburb of Philadelphia. It was 3 stories had a grand staircase and more bedrooms than I had ever seen. There was a litle pond out back with those giant goldfish in it. We would go there for every holiday. My uncle was Danish so most decorations were from Denmark. Christmas tree was real with handmade ornaments and real candles. I would get the best presents that came in there own, or so I thought, monogramed boxes. They had a big B & A on them, Betsy and Allen- nope it actually stood for B Altman Department Stores. Oh well! Food was unbeleivable. The dining room sat 20 for dinner at one table. My uncle always made strong drinks and great kiddie cocktails for me. But the one room I remember the most was my cousin Kimmy's. I would share this room with her when I came to visit. Lots of carmels and wood for color. She collected troll dolls which I still love. SHe is my youngest cousin, 9 years my senior.
Both my aunt and uncle are gone now and had moved from the house many years ago, my last trip there was after I had moved to MN, we went back for my uncles 80th Birthday.
blessings
beth
Dreaming of Friday Night Lights
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