It has been twelve years since I have visited that area. My grandma's house was still standing then, but just barely. It has fallen in on itself since then. I was so young when we would make our visits to Arkansas, but I have a few memories of her (my grandpa had died quite some time before I was born, so there are no memories of him.)
Breakfasts were huge at Grandma's house. Gravy was served every morning, probably. I would sleep in a bedroom off the kitchen and waking up to some comforting smells of sausage and biscuits and the sounds of the screen door banging. Along one side of the kitchen were shelves lined with canned fruits and vegetables. It was always organic, all the time, when everything comes from your own back yard. I remember going out to get fresh eggs and being nervous about whether or not the chickens would be mean to me. Her barn was very big, or so I thought, and I remember the smell of the hay and the animals. There were morning glories on the well, but I would not go near it because it was not something to be playing around, under any circumstances. I remember my grandma checking my back for ticks (this is a remote area in Arkansas, you know) and I remember the pink tile in the old bathroom. I never had the privilege of visiting her outhouse, but my sister did. And, I never saw how my Grandma would catch a chicken and break its neck so we could have our fried chicken dinner. Thanks, mom, for sparing me that experience :) Once, we accidentally knocked over a jar of Grandma's pickles on our Lego's, and this one huge foundation piece smelled like pickles for a while. My favorite thing at Grandma Davis' house was a picture on the wall of an apple tree with the names and birth dates of everyone in the family. I know someone has that and I think they are lucky.
I liked her front porch swing a lot, and because of my Grandma, I want a front porch with a swing more than anything. When I moved to Georgia two years ago, I tried and tried to find a house in our price range with a covered front porch. We looked at one house, which was a good one, but the house across the street had a covered front porch and I knew there was no way I wanted to look at something I wanted so much but couldn't have - and it being my neighbor's house, right across the street. I eliminated that house for that factor alone. At Grandma's house, the truckers would be driving down the state highway that ran in front, and you could wave to them and they would always give you a toot on the horn.
I also remember swimming in the creek and the Blue Hole. Roxie's house was in front of the Blue Hole. That was when I first heard that name, and I guess it must have remained a favorite since I chose it for my daughter. I remember taking shampoo down there with my cousins Holly and Laurie and washing our hair because the Blue Hole had such clean water. There was a rope hung on a tree branch where you could swing out and drop in the water. I remember my brother doing that, but I know I would not go into such deep water, which suited my mom just fine. The creek where we would swim flooded this past week.
Beautiful! What else is there to say?
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