[Neenah]

Thinking about America, and how blessed we are to live in freedom, I thought about my roots. I thought about happy times, good memories, and things that last in our thoughts. I wanted to invite you to go back to that kitchen of your childhood and tell us what you see...and be thankful with you.

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[areafiftyone]

Nice post! Can't talk now the support free republic baby is making me cry!;-)

[mdittmar]

The iron my mom threw at my dad;)

[truthkeeper]

That is very sweet. I wish I had such memories too. Thank you for sharing yours.

[Hanging Chad]

In my old kitchen window I see:
An old rusty stove with only one burner that worked.
We had to bring water from outside for cooking.
Mom cooked what ever we could get by on.
Dad worked two jobs to try to make us a better life.
So he was hardly ever home.
We all wore hand-me-down clothes with patches in the knees.
All the kids had only 1 pair of shoes each.
We washed clothes in a wash-tub and hung them up to dry.
We had no central heat or central air.
We were cold in the winter and hot in the summer.
We had no TV and just an old a.m. radio.
If we got sick, well we just stayed sick til we got over it.
- -
Things were not all that good "back in the good old days."
I prefer to stay here in the present, where things are much better,thank you.

[Johnny Gage]

What a nice post. Pinging a few friends.

I would add:
Feeling safe enough in the neighborhood that you could be gone for hours on end, and mom and dad never had to worry about you.

For me:
A shaded back yard, which was adjacent to a park, playing at the park, digging in the sand, making whole cities in the sand and playing with matchbox cars. Playing in the creek, and putting pennies on the railroad tracks.

[EternalVigilance]

A wonderful post!

I'll try and find some time later on to post my recollections.

[Eagle9]

I was fortunate to grow up in a time (1950s and early 60s) when nobody locked their doors and slept with the windows raised. My brothers, sister, and myself spent the entire summer and all school holidays on a working farm in N.E. Mississippi, so we had the best of both worlds, city and country life. Those were happy and adventurous times for us.

Yes, we're blessed to have been born in the greatest country on Earth, America.

[freedox]

Ahhhhhh.....I look out that kitchen window and I see mama's hyacinths blooming at the end of the clothesline. (I still can't walk past a blooming hyacinth without taking in a big whiff, closing my eyes and remembering.....) Beyond that, I see a bag swing hanging from an oak limb in the yard next door.....several neighborhood dads participated in hanging it and trying it out, which was entertaining in itself! At the edge of the yard, there's a little hill leading down to the woods......those magical woods where all of us neighborhood kids played for hours! Oh!! And we used to roll down that little hill in an old tractor tire!! Beyond the woods is the creek where our dads took us all ice skating once. When I fell and cut my arm, my dad took out his handkerchief, tied it around my arm and told me I'd be alright......I still remember that because it was the first time in my life that I realized I didn't have to go running home to mama because of a little blood!

You're right, Neenah. Things were so much simpler then.....moms were moms, dads were dads, and kids were kids. Sighhhhhhh.....thanks for the memories!

[MozartLover]

Hhmmm..........let's see........

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.