History
Memories. We each have a plethora of them.
Lately my kids have been asking for more stories of when I was a kid. I know I loved listening to my dad's stories of growing up (the one about his split finger, the knife in his brother's head). I can't recall my mom's but I bet she told us some!
So I have been writing down random memories that come into my head. Someday I might assemble them to make sense and let the kids read them all.
Here's just one example:
"There was an orchard in the front section of the acreage with peach and apple trees. I took it for granted at the time, but oh how I wish we had one now! On the bottom half of the property we had cherry trees and peach trees past the barn. I used to hate helping my mom prepare the produce for canning; but now…it’s what I do. Mom would pick the beans early in the hot summer mornings and Dave and I would sit at the table and snip the ends off and then cut them up for Mom to can. I can still see mounds of them piled on the white kitchen table and hear the little black kitchen radio tuned to ‘our’ music. And there were the berry mornings too. Mom would be out early picking the blackberries we grew on the side of the house – rows and rows of them – and then clean them up to make jam, or pies or cobbler or to freeze them. As we came of age we got to help pick also, wearing the yellow rubber gloves to keep the stains off our fingers and the thorns out of our skin."
Lately my kids have been asking for more stories of when I was a kid. I know I loved listening to my dad's stories of growing up (the one about his split finger, the knife in his brother's head). I can't recall my mom's but I bet she told us some!
So I have been writing down random memories that come into my head. Someday I might assemble them to make sense and let the kids read them all.
Here's just one example:
"There was an orchard in the front section of the acreage with peach and apple trees. I took it for granted at the time, but oh how I wish we had one now! On the bottom half of the property we had cherry trees and peach trees past the barn. I used to hate helping my mom prepare the produce for canning; but now…it’s what I do. Mom would pick the beans early in the hot summer mornings and Dave and I would sit at the table and snip the ends off and then cut them up for Mom to can. I can still see mounds of them piled on the white kitchen table and hear the little black kitchen radio tuned to ‘our’ music. And there were the berry mornings too. Mom would be out early picking the blackberries we grew on the side of the house – rows and rows of them – and then clean them up to make jam, or pies or cobbler or to freeze them. As we came of age we got to help pick also, wearing the yellow rubber gloves to keep the stains off our fingers and the thorns out of our skin."
You will have to get your mom to tell stories of when she was growing up.
ReplyDeleteI remember how we used to tease her and Vince about kissing!! Told her she must have to stand on steps to reach him!!
Hmm - will have to think of more so you can pass on.
Marilyn