Grandma’s house, the best place on earth. Filled with hugs, kisses, good smells and lots of love. She and Grandpa got along like best friends. Their happiness filled the farm and made it the most fun, most longed for, and safest place to be. My childhood fears faded at their house. I loved my time at Grandma’s. One of the first fears I had was the Boogieman. When I walked alone on a dark night I knew that he was right behind me, prepared to attack at any second. I pictured him ten feet tall with scalely-green skin, one eye lying on his cheek dangling from a slimy string of fleshy stuff. He had big hairy warts and long sharp claws on his hands. Just one look from his good eye and you could be turned to stone forever. Pretty much like the monsters my brother loved in his comic books or the late night movies. He could never get enough of the gory stuff, any amount of it proved to be too much for me!
I used to visit my Grandparents often in the 1950’s for weekends with my parents, then two glorious weeks in the summer by myself. I loved my Grandma in all things. Her gentle way of telling me to do things. Just before church she would give me Chicklets Gum and some Jergen’s lotion for my hands. Before walking into church she’d take the gum back and dispose of it. The smell of her hand lotion and lilac perfume gave me pleasure. Her mouth spoke kind words and her blue eyes held laughter most of the time.
My Grandma loved her large garden, she grew everything from squash to corn. She worked hard alongside of Grandpa in that garden. Towards the end of the season you could have a snack any time if you had a paring knife and a saltshaker!
I have always been one to stare at the clouds picking out shapes or just stare off into space and let my mind wonder. Grandma’s farm was the stuff daydreams are made of.
