Grandma's House.
I miss my Grandma’s house.
She had the most fantastic raspberry bush behind her barn. It was crazy – the berries on that bush grew twice as big as any on her regular rows of bushes. Black raspberries on one side of the yard, red on the other. She taught me to put them in milk with sugar, and then squish the heck out of them til the milk was bright red or purple.
She had a great front porch, too. It faced a good sized road and I remember using it as my own personal stage. The passing drivers were my audience. I’d plug my boombox in and dance up a storm. The trees in the front yard were enormous too, so it was always nice and shady on that porch.
She also had the best game closet upstairs. There was an old board game version of Family Feud up there. I remember having a really hard time figuring out the answers to some of the questions since the game was older than any of us kids. There was also a great marble game called Avalanche. I don’t think we ever played by the rules – it was way too entertaining just letting the marbles go through the board.
5 Responses to Grandma's House.
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Aww, what made you reminisce about this all of a sudden..?
That’s all very sweet and sentimental, Brianne. I’m glad you shared. <3
I’ve never heard of doing that with milk, by the way!! I’ll have to try that myself sometime; hehe..
Oh my goodness what a sweet entry. It made me think about my great grandmother’s house and how much I miss it and miss her. Aww.
Caity’s last blog post..Finger nails and hammered nails.
Her place was best in summer. When I was young, it was this time of year that my family’d pack up the minivan and head down to visit, since school was finally out.
You’ve officially made me miss my grandma more than ever. I love reading blogs like this one because it’s so sweet and touching. I can tell you loved your grandma a lot.
I love this post, Ms. Brianne. We sold our family farm late last year–it was a century farm that had been in our family for generations, and I felt so SAD when it was gone. It’s funny, because it’ll never be gone, but it’s not the same to see it when it’s not ours…not where I’ll play Indians with my siblings and cousins (we weren’t very PC as elementary schoolers!), not where I’ll ride the propane tanks, not where I’ll sing to the cows while they’re being milked, not where I’ll walk into the kitchen and find my dad and uncles sitting around, talking smart about farming and weather and how everything SHOULD be done, by God.
Thanks for posting this…
.-= Rachel´s last blog ..Score One for Lucks =-.