Monday, October 13, 2008

Nothing Like Grandma's Lap on a Chilly Fall Morning

Step barefoot onto the back porch, breathe in the crispness in the morning air, rub your arms with your hands, and wish you'd put on a long sleeve shirt over your worn-out sleeping t-shirt. . . those are the kind of autumn mornings that make Grandma's lap a kid's favorite spot for lounging while the grownups drink their coffee and watch for wild animals crossing the far edges of the fields by the woods.
Soaking up dew with the hem of your jeans, getting a wet blade or two or three of grass stuck in your flip flops that really ought to be retired for the season, searching the yard for new treasures, this curlicued dahlia center stops you in your tracks.
Play freeze-out on the dark country roads on the way to Grandma and Granddaddy's house on a Friday night after school. Belt out oldies and country classics with the radio when the four hour drive gets too quiet. Always, always, plan your trip so you must stop at White Castle in Corydon for either lunch or supper :)
Hear the gravel crunch under the tires as you come down the driveway. Turn the key, climb out the door and into somebody's arms. There's always Grandma/Mother, Soupie, Bubby, or Granddaddy/Pop waiting to hug some youngens and you as soon as you step on the ground. Hug each one, pet the cat, head inside. . . you know you gotta go to the bathroom because you drank the rest of your soda from supper that last hour of the trip, you know you gotta have a drink of water, you know you gotta walk back to the bedroom and see what new treasure Grandma has left there for you this time!
Grab an empty bucket, put on real shoes (no flip flops or crocs), walk down the hill behind the shop to the edge of the recently picked cornfield in search of ears of corn the combine missed as it turned corners. Fill your bucket, lug it back to the house, sit by the light of the fire in the metal firepit, and loosen the first kernels from an ear of corn with the side of your thumb. Laugh and joke with family as they do the same, dodge stray kernels as they fly by your own ear, and wait for the fire to die down enough to roast some sticky marshmallows.
Pick up walnuts, pick up hickory nuts, and scrounge in the barn loft for treasure (some elaborate crown moulding with peeling cherry red paint, plastic toy horses left from the 1970's, and a kitchen table waiting for you to refinish it...all of which get left behind this trip for various reasons).
Once again, wish the state of Indiana could be lifted up off the map and switched with Illinois so that the trip to reach all this would be a couple hours shorter :)


rosebud101 said...

Wow! What a work of poetry. Ang, you write so well!

Deb said...

WOW - I just lived that Ang. I wanna come too time! (& I don't even like the cold - lol).
What a fabulous post - so evocative.

ellen said...

Holy cow - I want to go next time too.

Anonymous said...

IT IS NOT A GARBAGE DISPOSAL Anfe it is a router . Me and my sister Angie had a little lesson this past weekend on woodworking 101 . If she did not remeber what something was she got her hand slapped with a folding stick rule , not some nun's yard stick . Before you all start it is light slap's , right ANGIE ? BUBBY

Studio Marcy - Marcy Lamberson said...

Love that photo of Katie and her grandmom. It's beautiful.


Capt Elaine Magliacane said...

Oh Bubby, router, smouter... leave your sister alone :-)

Now Angie, your visit to Grandma and Grandpa's house made me all misty eyed thinking about my Grand-parents and missing those always welcoming arms...I hope I'm my Grand-children have fond memories of me some day.

angelinabeadalina said...

Elaine, I can certainly tell from the way you talked about your grandson's visit this summer that you are making wonderful memories for your grandchildren. You know, sometimes seeing my kids with my Mom and Dad makes me miss my own grandparents alot, too.

Thanks for the compliments on the description, everybody :) It was just a wonderful weekend!