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Posted on 04/11/2003 1:27:56 PM PDT by Neenah
As I walk back "home" in my mind, I see our kitchen. A place where life and love happened.
Our street in our quaint town of Neenah,Wisconsin, was lined with those huge 100 yr. old trees. The kind that hung over the street. I look out the window and see the huge Maple tree. The one that gave those big red leaves in the fall so I could be the first one in grade school to bring the biggest and prettiest leaf to show. I see the road, covered with those trees that lined the street and almost touched in the middle. The street in front was our baseball diamond, and that big Maple tree? Well, it was 3rd. base. It was also "goal" for "Kick the Can" and "Draw a big red circle on the iceman's back".
The Webster family live across the street on the corner. Mr. Webster is the Presbyterian Minister in town, and his wife is a piano teacher. Summers are filled with the sounds of students playing their lesson to the sound of the timer. Next door, is the Thompson family. They have 6 kids, and one of them pees his pants! They have a Player Piano, and I sometimes sit on their poarch and just thrill to the sound of it. In back of their house is a shed...the one I jump off of and break my arm because I knew I was Superman and could fly.
Our kitchen always smells good. Apple pies cool on the window sill. Mom wears an apron when she irons in front of the sink. The sink is where Mom washes Daddy's hair on a Saturday night. (and continuted that ritual until they died in their 80's).
In the winter, I see snow so high that walking to school is like walking through a tunnel. But in the summer, where there was once snow..it is hot, and the big screen porch out front is the place my Daddy and I sit on the Glider and eat fresh respberries with sugar and real cream, the cream that rose to the top of he milk bottle that was delivered by the milkman. We are quiet, and it is raining. The smell of the summer rain is strong, and the rain dances next to the big Maple tree, kind of making a happy dance. And you know what? I feel so darn safe next to my Daddy. Nothing could be better than this!! Just me and my Dad, raspberries and cream, and the smell of the rain....just out on the porch outside my childhood kitchen window. Thanks Mom and Daddy.
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Yes, we're blessed to have been born in the greatest country on Earth, America.
When I look out my childhood kitchen window......I see a nice, big lawn of lush green grass.......a street with a few cars going by, not too many, not too fast.......and across the street, a vacant lot.....(not vacant now, but it was then)....."the swamp", we call it...because when it rains a lot, the low areas fill up with water. When it's dry & warm outside my two brothers bring their "little men" (small Army soldier dolls) over there and pitch various & sundry battles in the dirt.
Next door to the lot live the Howards. He's a policeman, she's a stay-at-home mom. Well, all the moms are.:) They have three adopted children.
Next door to them are the Grotz's. They also have three children, and the people across from them have seven children..........there are so many children in this neighborhood and if you are bored on a lazy summer day all you have to do is look out the window and see who's outside and run and join them in a game of tag/Spud/Captain May I/Statue Maker/football/baseball//jacks/slinkies or any one of a million things we enjoy together.
One summer night the sky turns dark green and the wind howls. The tornado sirens blare. On my way down to the basement I glance out the kitchen window and I see my Dad. He is standing on the porch. My mother is shrieking for him to get in the house. He is calmly watching the approaching storm. He is, as always, fascinated by the strong wind, the flashing light and the roiling clouds "so low I can nearly reach up and touch them." Later, after the storm passes, he comes downstairs and gently tells us, "I think you can come upstairs now." I think he is the bravest man in the world.
Through the kitchen window I see: the driveway where I learned how to ride a bike; the yard where we would set up our croquet set and play until it got too dark to see; the three pine trees in the corner of the yard that were so tiny when we planted them and have grown to be so tall; my Dad's riding lawn mower and my Mom's flowers; in the winter, lots and lots of snow; in the summer, lots of people........children......grown-ups........out and about and enjoying life together in peace.
Thanks for the ping Johnny.
First off I'm not sure there was a kitchen window ... If so it looked at a cellar door about 10 feet out from the house. It was a dug out cellar. Where the dirt removed made a mound on top of it. It was used for storms and to keep a few things like watermellon or potatoes to keep them lasting longer. A scary place for me, having spiders and I feared chicken snakes, etc. Looking out the front door was a covered porch with a porch swing.
I remember sitting on the porch all bundled up with a blanket and watching the rain storms falling and thundering.
In front of our house was a barbed wire fence then a dirt road that had a y right (forking) there going to a couple more houses, in the small community scattered around on 1 or 2 acre lots. We had mulberry trees. I'd climb when I was five or so, pick mulberrys and blow off the tiny mite looking things on them and eat them ... getting stains all over my fingers and spots on my clothes. I would have to go out and cut switches for my Daddy to switch me for going off with our bird dog Andy.
There was a church next door. One time they built a campfire or bonfire out back and then sat around it one evening telling ghost stories.
One day a group of us were playing 'red rover' and I was on the end and caught hold of the fence and when the runner burst into me and the other person it cut my fingers ... as it was a barbed wire fence too.
There was an old oilwell derrick about a block or two away and it had a sucker rod that ran for a distance and in places it was about four feet above the ground. It was fun to hang on it by the legs and stuff. There were no children to play with except maybe on church days.
Mother had a washing machine that sat on the back porch. It had a washing tub with a manually turned ringer and three tubs for rinsing water. With bluing in the last one to keep the clothes whiter. I'd help hang the clothes on the clothes lines that were in the sun and open to the breezes.
We had a few chickens, when Mother wanted to have chicken for dinner... she would catch one, wring it's neck, bring it inside, scald it with boiling water and pluck the feathers off, clean out the insides, singe the pinfeathers, cut it up and prepare it however she wanted. Usually fried. One time I wrung a chickens neck ... never wanted to do that again.
Down the road a little piece we had two milk cows. We sold a little butter to neighbors. Mother had a daisy churn. Hand turned of course.
One of my all time favorite things was homemade ice cream ... and also watermelons. I'd eat ice cream until it was all gone, there wasn't anymore.
We moved from there when I was 8.
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