Going Home

This is the door that we endlessly ran in and out of, the screen door is gone now, it has been replaced with a burglar bar door. But the old wooden one is still the same and believe it or not the glass is the same that was there when my parents bought the place. The door has pealing white paint and the original rusty barn red shows through. I can remember when it was that color all over, well except the brick cause we don’t’ believe in painting brick. {not that there is anything wrong in painting brick if you like that sort of thing}

This is the window where my mother would watch us play in the backyard, as she washed dishes in the double sink. The sink is the same but the faucets have changed a few if not several times. There used to be trees, the clothesline {solar dryer} was tied to them. My sisters and I would make tents over the line with blankets and have tea parties with our dolls or picnics. The one really big oak tree I would climb and sit on this one special branch that was just right for a little girl needing to sit. All the trees are gone having been fell by one hurricane or another through the years. My tree had to be cut down a few years after My limb fell and hit the power and phone lines coming into the house. Which caused a chain reaction; house caught on fire making the transformer on the power pole blow and that affects the pocket book. Because everyone knows, or at least should know, that between the pole and your home is your problem.

Why the walk down memory lane? We went to my parents recently so I could cut my daddy’s toenails, cause I do that {back-story in a few}. And when I was emptying the foot thingy out the back door, cause a good Earth friendly citizen should not pour good water down the bad drain when it can be used on something in the yard, I noticed the pealing paint and thought of how many times I must have gone in and out that very same door ~a hundred Gazillion at least. And yes I bet at least a third, ok maybe half of those times (could be more) was followed by the phrase “Don’t slam the screen door!”

*here’s that back story of sorts. When I was little and we would pack up in the unair-conditioned car to head up north to Indiana {home} my daddy would always cut my great-grandfather’s toenails when we got to the farm. When my dad was in the hospital several years ago I noticed how long and knarly his talons were and I was honestly a little surprised they were that bad. It was just pitiful (dapoppins Pity Party) I mean EE-U! I sure hope, IF / when I can’t do my own, someone will do it for me.

Such are the little things we don’t think about and take for granted~~sometimes.

Oh by the way I won a prize and y'all are so jealous. I just know it. This is getting posted from the Gage Hotel in Marathon Texas. As I am on vacation in the Big Bend National Park area. Which is MOST AWESOME y'all gotta come here one of these days! We will be there tomorrow and thru the remainder of the week. Any one feeling HOT HOT HOT