madamekelly

I was raised a city kid. When I was ten, my dad remarried a country girl. The first Christmas with her we went to her parents home for Christmas. I remember feeling the long cold ride with a really lousy car heater, and being amazed at all the country side, and wide open space. I do remember wondering if there was any heat out in the country. When we pulled into the driveway, I remember being impressed that anyone had such a long driveway that went down and down. Her father had been born in the very room that he now shared with his wife. Can you even imagine that? His parents had been settlers and laid claim to a forested box canyon where they began a saw mill. When we arrived at the bottom, we all spilled into the brightly lit kitchen filled with wonderful smells, I thought I had suddenly found myself in heaven. There was way too much of way too many new things, turkey, gravy, sweet potatoes, fruit salad, etc. I had never seen such a quantity of food, and being told to eat what ever I wanted was almost too much to believe. (Dad was a newly single, recently released, Marine with four little kids, so we ate lots of burgers). After dinner, and after we all did our part to clean up, we sat down to watch "It's a wonderful life". As we dressed to leave I discovered it was snowing, so we had to spend the night. I went to bed on the living room carpet thinking that I must have been real good that year to have so much at once. Sleeping against the foot pedals of grandma's piano (she told us she was really grandma too), was the best time I had ever had. Old upright pianos always remind me of the wonder filled Christmas the year I was ten.