Before I start my trip away from Russellville, Arkansas I must reminisce a bit more.  Yesterday was my last day here to see all those I love.  My dear uncle Buddy, now up in his 90’s was able to visit with my sister and me for awhile.  Uncle Buddy is my mom’s brother.  My mom was the oldest of thirteen, twelve of whom lived to adulthood.  Ten girls and three boys.  You can not even imagine the stories that each of those children could tell.  Well one of my Aunts did tell her story in an awesome book “A BAKER’S DOZEN” by Anne Chaney.  A thick book, but a fast read.  Contact me through this blog if you are interested in ordering one and I can give you the info to do so.

Well, Uncle Buddy is the last surviving son.  He outlived both of his younger brothers.  I dearly love uncle Buddy.  He is a gentle spirit who suffered the rigors of World War II with lasting affects.  He has been a widower for many years and has one son.  Uncle Buddy cannot hear .  We communicate with him by his speaking and the rest of us writing on a tablet.  His mind is sharp and can hold his own in a conversation. Very interesting to listen to him. He loves to read and is familiar with a lot of current books. Recently he was fitted with a hearing aid that connects directly with his TV.  I suppose he has been cut off from all source of TV news for awhile because he was concerned about some of the new laws that he is learning about regarding Medicare now that he can hear what is being talked about.  Never take your hearing for granted. It is a powerful and wonderful gift, given as a tool to be used for a lifetime.  Take care of it.  Many hearing disorders are caused by being exposed to high volumes of UNNECESSARY sound.  Living in a family where hearing loss is prevalent you early realize how precious it is.

I said goodbye to Uncle Buddy, again realizing it might be the last opportunity of seeing him on this side of heaven.  It is with joy I see my loved ones and I carry these memories with me in a special place in my heart.  It is sort of like saying goodbye to my own past.  Our children our our future, our parents are our past.  Should I live a long life there will be a time when all those who knew me as a child will be gone.  Their stories will be gone.  As long as I have my memories they will live in my heart.

On the morning of March 19th I worked out, came back to Aunt Esther’s and packed up to leave.  Only then did I realize I had not driven by the old country house in Center Valley where my grandparents lived for over 50 years.  I could not leave without another little trip down memory lane.

“continue reading…”

It is only about 4 miles from Aunt Esther’s place so I made the detour.  When my grandmother died the farm was sold.  The buyer split the acreage and several different people bought large parcels and built homes or put up ram-shackled house trailers with packs of mean dogs.  You don’t want to be caught on the country road and meet a pack of dogs like that.  One time I was there I actually had to stand up to a big bully of one of the dogs and scare him more than he scared me.  And believe, me with my yelling and throwing things, that dog high tailed it back to his property.  I actually too off running toward him with a big stick and rocks in hand as he was running toward me.  He stopped, froze, decided a maniac bigger than him was charging after him and that was when he took off!  It took a couple more aggressive stances like that to make him a believer and not come back after me.  Well, on this day I stayed in the car.  I drove down the dirt road (yes, still a dirt road with a little gravel on it) and took a few pictures from behind the wheel.  Met some friendly horses and talked with them for a few minutes then headed across the road to take a picture of the old country house.  Very run down now.  Sad to see the deterioration and lack of flowers.  Wherever my grandma and mama lived the yards were always a mass of blooming flowers all season.  I’ll put in a couple of pictures of the house and landscape to paint a better scene for you.

The house is very small.  When occupied by my grandparents it was four small rooms and a central hallway.  Not all the kids lived there at one time (grandma had babies for 25 years) but there was always a passel of them.  After the house was sold someone came in and did a makeover and the hallway became an entry and small dining area.  Some closets were put in which made the rooms even more cramped.  The kitchen was updated and that was a good thing.  I remember when plumbing was brought into the little house in 1962.  The first indoor toilet.  Before that we always ran out to the outhouse when the need struck.  At night we used the chamber pot.  I won’t tell you where they emptied the chamber pots.  There was a well in the back yard and water always had to be brought into the house in buckets.  In the back hallway there was a bucket of water with a dangling tin cup on the side.  When you were thirsty you just dipped the cup in the bucket, took a big drink and hung the cup back on the side of the pail.  It’s a wonder that the twelve siblings survived to adulthood.  Just driving by the house that sits right next to the dirt road evoked all these memories.  I could still see the well sitting in the back yard.  What was missing were the flowers, the berry vines, the acre garden spot where all the food was raised and the clotheslines filled with laundry flapping in the wind.  And the ancient trees were all cut down.

After grandpa died in 1978 my mom moved in with grandma and took care of her with the help of her sisters.  Mama lived there with grandma until grandma died in the early 90’s.  Mama then moved back in with aunt Esther.  After several years my mother’s health declined and my sister Velma bought the old country house back, moved to Arkansas and took care of my mother in the same house until her death in 2010.  The house has again been sold out of the family and shows a bit more wear and tear.  I nodded at the old house as drove away, and again tucked the precious memories of childhood summers there as well as all the visits that transpired as my family grew older.  I am so thankful that my children were able to experience some of the country house memories in their childhood as well.

Heading to spend the night in Euless Texas on the way to San Antonio.  More about DAY 13 in my next blog.