Where I'm From

Thanks to Quiltgranny for getting me started on the Where I'm From trip down memory lane. Try it yourself! At first it was difficult, but I ended up with far more recollections than I could ever use.


Where I'm From

I am from white Keds, and new $1 flip-flops every June.
I am from a house built on low land with a septic tank that filled up and toilets that belched every time there was a downpour. I thought 'Bubble, bubble, toilet trouble' was how the quote was supposed to go.

I am from Friday night pork chops, painted with Dad's homemade bbq sauce and grilled on the patio.

I am from Mom constantly telling us "Clean your plate!" and "Don't slam the screen door!" and contests with the fly-swatter to splat the ones that came in through the holes in the screen.

I'm from parents who believed kids should go to scout meetings on Tuesday, the library Saturday, and church on Sunday. We got Perfect Attendance yearly at school unless we'd been quarantined.

I'm from a rural childhood, with watermelons grown on the compost pile, homemade grape juice from our own tough-skinned grapes, and prickly crookneck squash, gathered while the cold dew soaked your sneaker-toes.

I am from summer camps in the forest shade. I am canoeing lessons and repetitive songs at campfires. Then teamwork-trained and prepared for grown-upness by sweaty summers of herding around my own cabins of grubby campers.

I am black and white pictures from a Brownie camera, turned golden with time.