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As a child every one else in my family
had a horse..There were horses at my
uncles...Horses my brothers
rode, and boarding horses that
just ran around
Grandma's meadow and made trouble!
Awwwww! The smell of the
meadow this time of
year. It is Aug. The alfalfa is ripe.
It is time to mow the hay and bale
it for the coming winter. The horses
stood around in the sun in belly
deep meadow grass! They stood
stoic in Deep green of the world
they lived in.
I can smell them. with a little
work I can hear them snort. In
my mind I can watch the colts
who's legs have grown long since those
very first wobbly steps. They are Leggy, and
full of childish mischief!
In memory I can walk barefoot along the
old road to Grandma's house.
I can smell the dust motes my bare
feet raise in the Aug.
sunshine. I can smell the mint
growing by Grandma's spring!
I can see the bucket sitting near by
for one of us to pick up, fill and pack
to Granny's kitchen.
She was always willing to accept
a clear clean cold drink of
water. If she didn't want to drink
of it, she could save
it for washing dishes,cooking
and baking! The
joy on her face when she welcomed
a child with a
bucket of water she
didn't have to carry herself
was sublime!
I loved the smells of Grandma's
kitchen! There was the old,
Smoky, "Majestic"wood stove
in the corner. There was
Grandpa's P.A. smoke lingering
in the air. If we were
lucky there were fresh biscuits
sitting on the sideboard.
They could be waiting in the little
ovens above the cook stove!
Grandma wasn't much of a cook,
but we all have our specialty!
We all thought Grandpa worked
in the logging camps to get
a decent meal in the winter
time!He would work the butter
churn with his strong "Lumberjack arms!"
while she mixed the ingredients and started
a fire. OH! How HOT that kitchen
became in late summer!
Cold clear Water from the
spring below the house
was poured into a tank on
the stove to be heated
while she cooked! When I
was a child there was no
electricity on our hill! Inventions
like a tank for heating
water on a stove were the labor
saving devices of Grandma's day!
There were warming ovens on
top of the stove to keep
the biscuits warm while they
waited for Grandpa's
patience to wear out as He sent
the paddle round and
round; so he might whip the
heavy cream into thick
yellow butter!
When I brought the bucket of
cold water, I would stand on my
tip toes so I could set it onto the
old checker table cloth Grandma
kept atop their table. My piggy tails
could barely be seen while
I looked on that table in search of
an errant cookie, left there by
Grandpa to chum small children
who brought in buckets full of
water for Her to make HOT
steaming mugs of coffee or tea.
Grandpa and Grandma poured
fresh whole milk into their
coffee to cool and for flavor.
Sometimes Grandma added
a spring of mint and a dip of
sugar to cold spring water for
tea. mostly they both drank HOT
coffee. If it was too Hot
They would pour it from their cup
onto their saucers and slurp
it from the saucer...
Mom said," never
to try this at home, It was Okay for Grandma
and Grandpa...It was
NOT okay for small girls!"
I know my nose wrinkled at the thought of
such bigotry! WHAT? A double standard in Idaho??
I knew better than to take the chance of getting a
small swat for trying it! Mom, never hit
very hard. There was always the danger th
offense would gether "worked up"
and she might tell
Dad. His swats were a lot more
painful. He could
jog a kids memory from the seat of their
pants!
It was fun to sit in the "parlor" window to
watch the colts cavort around the meadow.
They seemed to have boundless
energy; even in the heat of the sun!
When they got to hot they would roll on their
backs in the mud along the creek! I
was jealous...I wasn't allowed to play in the mud!
I remember walking through the kitchen
to go out and
watch my brothers try to catch the horses.
I caught sight of Grandma lifting the biscuit's
out of the over...I learned much from her..This
day she was teaching me language
and deportment! As I stepped through the
door; just in time to see! Her hand slipped
she stuck her thumb into the steamy hot biscuit..
.
This was one of the biscuits with the
slightly black top and bottom...I was just
in time to hear her yell...."DAMN IT!
Damn it...Damn it...Damn IT....I stuck
my thumb in every biscuit!"
By the time she sat them on
the table beside Grandpa......
she'd done just that!
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