Living on Lake Murvaul, in East Texas, my mom’s parents showed us a good time every time we showed up Sometimes it was work (mowing, cleaning, cooking, etc.), other times it was learning to water ski, going to the pasture, looking for antique bottles, or swimming from the pier.
Regardless, one of my favored childhood memories was at the house on the right.
Their favorite friends, Rev and Mrs V.A. Guidroz built just next door. The house on the left.
Here we learned to play wahoo, enjoyed putting together puzzles, eating old-fashioned popped popcorn with drizzled butter, and fishing!
Church in Carthage often meant enjoying to drive (below 70 mph) on roads where Grandmother slipped over the yellow line… Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, she would say as she corrected her direction.
One summer, we arrived with Grandmother and Granddad, only to find the power off and their freezers full of meat ready to spoil. What to do. What do we do? We cooked all the meat, wrapped it back up and froze it for later consumption!
It was here we arrived when granddad met us coming out of his workshop. Covered in blood. He had not even realized he cut off the tip of his thumb… Oh well, wipe it off on his coveralls and hug us anyway!
We thought nothing of being barefoot most of the time, on hot oiled roads, skipping across grass with burrs, swimming across the arm of lake to the park, and tiring ourselves to sleep every night.
No TV, cellphone, or electronic games. It was simply a boy’s life lived by 3 brothers. And a sister!
Saturday, we arrived at my brother and sister-in-laws house, just a few miles from where our grandparents lived. We’ve enjoyed hanging out, and remembering ancient times. Fishing. Boating. Lake.
Great memories. Childhood memories lived out 50 years later.