One of my very earliest memories is “helping” my father and Grandpa clear away the ruins of an old outhouse in the back yard blown over by a hurricane. Because I was so small, when I was four years old, it looked positively huge to me. And I had no idea what it was used for–they had indoor plumbing by then.
I remember them going at it with saws and claw hammers, and carting the wood out to the curb for trash pickup. It was just the kind of bright and sunny day you get after a major storm. Grandpa had a double lot, half of it for the house, the rest planted all over with flowers, berry patches, and vegetables. And yes, Grandma knew how to can the produce–pots full of black and red raspberries, Concord grapes, and whatnot. People in those days knew how to do a lot of things that have since been forgotten.
The old house is gone now, everything’s gone, even the beautiful dogwood trees. I’m so glad I can still remember it.
Because I think Heaven will be very much like it.
Beautiful memories of a small child! It sounded so much like my husband Tom’s memories of spending time, when he was very young, at his grandparents’ house in rural Michigan. On one acre they built their house, raised a pig each year, chickens, and a milk goat. They had blueberries, corn, and apples that Grandma canned.
Tom remembers being afraid to pull the eggs out from under the protesting hens. And Tom used the outhouse they had until they added a bathroom with indoor plumbing. We moved into that same house in the late 1980s and raised our children, and we still live there, but the area is incorporated. No farm animals are allowed, but we do plant a vegetable garden and have deer, coyotes, and many smaller animals that home on and near our land.
Grandpa had chickens for the table when my mother was a girl. I’m glad I didn’t have to see you-know-what–no more chickens by the time I came along.