(My aunt sent me some photos that she had found. This one is of me, my middle sister and my cousin. Why I was wearing nothing but my TG&Y panties, I don't know, but I am thinking it was probably summer and we were at my Mammaw's house. You know parents and their cameras. They will take a picture anytime. Ha!)
Mammaw and Pappaw lived in a little house. Three bedrooms. One bathroom. When we would go visit, we three girls would sleep in one bed in the back bedroom. We used to fight over who had to sleep next to the big scary window fan. The fan stayed on during the night to keep the rest of the house cool. I don't know why, but my sister and I were convinced that a boogey man could walk up, stick his hand through that fan opening and grab you.
During the holidays, that little house would be packed to the corners. That back bedroom was ours. All the girls would cram in there. We would play, talk, giggle and even eat. Mammaw would set up the ironing board in front of the bed and we would use that as our table. (Recently on a trip up to visit my aunt, she joked that she started to pull out the ironing board for the girls to eat on "for old time's sake".)
There were lots of other great places to play at Mammaw's house too. Pappaw had huge green apple trees. We would climb those branches as high as our bravery would allow. You had to be smart getting into that apple tree. One wrong move and you would accidentally step on the tin that covered Pappaw's potatoes.
We would walk out under the pine trees and pick up some rocks (or something) that wrote like chalk. Mammaw and Pappaw had the old home foundation from their original home. It was still planted with shrubs and flowers around it. We would play house on that foundation and used those rocks to draw off rooms and furniture. We could play that forever.
The best part of any visit would be going in to eat. My Mammaw was an amazing cook. My Daddy says he still misses her fried apple pies. She made the best butter beans too. We all loved her punch cake -- that is what I call it -- a cake she made and punched holes in and dripped delicious icing in. I remember one time when we were staying with her she made homemade biscuits and homemade syrup.
From Pappaw, I developed a lifelong love of Pepsi Cola. Every morning at 10:00 he would say, "I think I'll have a Pepsi Cola." If we were visiting he would pull out one more and split it for my sister and I. As you can see from the picture, my Pappaw was a tall, thin man. He wasn't much for sugar. He drank milk with all his meals and I never did see him eat but a taste of dessert, but he loved his Pepsi Cola.