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Showing posts from May, 2013

Hee Haw Homeland Farm style

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     I can remember my childhood Saturday nights like they were last week. I can almost smell the sweet scent of pea beans baking in my grandmother's kitchen, and see the pan of hot yeast rolls, tops rubbed with butter, cooling on the shelf. There would be horseradish and sliced cukes in vinegar on the table along side the yellow dairy butter and extra spoons. My grandmother never wanted to be without an extra spoon. She put extra spoons on the table for every meal.       My grandfather sat with his back to the wall, and I sat next to him on a red, wooden stool. My grandmother sat next to me, and my uncle was across the table from my grandfather. We would all eat and eat, and inevitably my Uncle Billy would comment about something..like the rolls weren't quite as good as they usually were, or the beans could have used a mite more salt. They were always perfect, and I always argued that they were just right.         We would always end our meal with some homemade dessert, of

Spring Fever

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Spring at the Farm      Spring has sprung, and a young mans thoughts turn to love. I took my youngest and a friend down to watch the girls play softball, and as they walked across the field, I had a flash back. Ahhhh...thirteen. Can it really be so long ago that I was age thirteen?       I remember when I was in junior high like it was yesterday. The drama of which girl liked which boy, who was going to sit with who on the bus to the high school, and are you going to go to "The Dance"?       The word dance is used very lightly here. I believe it should have actually been called "The Stand Around." Yes, at Bridgton Junior High, we girls would line up on one side of the room, while the boys lined up on the other. Once in awhile, there would be an occasional couple dancing, but for the most part, it was a stare down across the cafeteria. I remember walking nonchalantly down past the boys, and a fella named Andy jumped into my arms. That was about the only contact