black-eyed susans...

One day this week, I sat outside admiring my Black-eyed Susans.  My mind wandered and I was taken back to some special childhood memories...

Every summer of my childhood, I spent two weeks at my Tennessee grandparents' farm.  It took FOREVER to get there.  My sister and I prayed for safety because my Dad spent way too much time looking at the beautiful views we passed along the way.  After riding FOREVER, we turned off a paved road onto a 26 mile long dirt road.  

At this point, I could hardly contain my excitement!  We drove and drove and drove. We passed by the one room school house my mom, aunt, and two uncles had to walk nine miles in sun, rain, snow, and ice to get there and get educated.  Along this dirt road, Black-eyed Susans grew among the trees and vines and plants.  They are one of my all time favorite flowers, but they never distracted me very long.  This place had creeks and creeks and rocks and wooden bridges and dust.  I really could hardly contain my excitement!

When we passed by one family’s farm, I absolutely loved seeing the creek and wooden bridge and peacocks and a bunch of other animals.  I knew it wasn’t too much longer before I could get out of that car and run up to the door and see my grandparents!  I seriously could hardly contain my excitement! 

Finally, we got to a point where the road curved and we came down a hill and I COULD SEE THE HOUSE!  I could no longer contain my excitement!  But first, we crossed an old wooden bridge across the best creek ever.  Then we turned onto the long dirt and rock driveway.  My excitement burst like fireworks!  This was the old home place where we visited with my grandparents, my uncles and aunts, and (especially!) my cousins.  This was the place of special childhood memories...

Memories of swimming in the creek and playing with crawdads and hiking and playing and coloring and eating meals on the front porch and smelling my grandmother’s biscuits and bacon every morning and drinking spring water and playing with salamanders and walking seven miles to the old country store that doubled as a library and exploring and skipping rocks and dangling our legs off the bridge and watching the cows and collecting rocks and riding into town with my granddaddy and playing tag and... 

I am not responsible for any exaggerations above.  I was just a kid...