I had it all figured out, what I would do for my column this week. In fact, it is about half typed and waiting its turn, but it won’t be this week.
I don’t even remember what was said that sent me back in time for a blast of the past, but I’m happy it did.
Great Grammie Smith lived across the road from us in a little bitty trailer, 30 feet of snug. I loved it, that tiny home.
I absolutely adored Gram. I sat by her poor arthritic feet with her running her crippled fingers through my hair. She had the softest touch. I know how lucky I was to have her in my life, in fact, until I was 18 and I know how unusual that is.
All of that to tell you about my 12th Christmas. I had found a teal colored (unusual color for back then) pants suit in the Sears catalog. I was in love and immediately started my campaign for it. I tormented Mom and she finally told me it wasn’t happening that year. Well, look out Gram, here I come.
And I did torment Grammie. I knew Mom didn’t order that suit, but there was a chance Gram might. Every day, I went over to Gram’s. I’d go wake her up and then I’d start searching her little trailer until she came out of the bedroom. I would be sitting in her rocking chair that she always sat in. I had hunted every nook and corner and NOTHING!
Christmas came and Dad went over to bring Grammie back to see us kids open our presents. We did; we opened our gifts and of course I was getting worried that my begging had not worked. Well, Dad pulled out a package from under the tree and it was a gift from Grammie to me. I opened it and oh my goodness, my SUIT! As soon as I realized what it was, Grammie laughed right out loud. She had put one over on me and she was still chuckling when she told me she knew I searched that trailer. She was so proud as she told me I had sat on my wonderful suit for weeks, it was under Grams cushion.
She was never to let me forget my ordeal. She always chuckled when she thought of it.
I’m just curious if any of this reminded you of any of your family’s experiences. I would love to hear the stories. Contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org. Thanks for reading and please check out the changes to our website.
Going on a Christmas Tree Walk
On a weekend day after Thanksgiving our family always went on the Christmas Tree Walk. Naturally, Dad had done hours of walking throughout the year and he knew where he was walking his Christmas tree hunters this year.
We got bundles up in snowsuits, boots, hats and mittens. Of course, by the time we were ready to go out the door one of us (three of us that year) would need to make a potty visit; it never failed.
Finally, bundled and out the door, off we’d go marching across the yard and trudging through the field headed towards the woods. You have to understand the “trudging” gets tiring pretty quickly to the littlest of us. (Sled for youngest the next year!)
To put the ‘walk’ into perspective, I believe it is safe to say it may have been about the inside length of the Waterville Wal-Mart.
You guessed it, about the time we made it a few feet inside the tree line the younger ones were done in. Dad chopped the tree down, dragging it with his one hand and the other arm was used to carry Blake, Mom carried Lyn and I carried the ax, carefully, of course.
Once in the house, winter clothing discarded, we waited for our treat of hot (real) cocoa that Dad would make and we added the marshmallows.
Another successful Christmas Tree Walk was complete.
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