MOORE LIKE A ZOO!!: This Child's Wonderland!

I was one of those blessed children who had the wonderful opportunity of growing up right next door to the only grandparents that I ever knew in this life, Everett and Vera.

My father, Eugene, whose only sibling was a still born sister, was raised as an only child by his parents in this house.

I and my four siblings, on the other hand were raised in this house. We lived here until 1979, right after my eighth birthday, when we moved away to Colorado.

For years the house I had lived in has been unoccupied. My Granparents home, on the other hand is experiencing its first bout of lonliness in probably its entire existence. Recently my parents, who after retirement in 1995, moved into it, had to relocate to another home that does not require so much stair climbing. This has left me to its upkeep.

Each and every time that I go there to work (mowing lawns and general upkeep), I am taken back to a time in my life when things were simpler. I revel in the memories of walking along rock walls, of climbing Grandma's Old Peach tree (which has long since fallen in storms and is now replaced by a pear tree which I planted in 1999), and of playing hide-n-seek and kick-the-can, of riding my bicycle and skateboard up and down the street.

I can almost smell the beautiful petunias that Grandma would plant in the flower box in front of the porch every year, without fail. I think back to the times when I would sleep on that same front porch, with the giant window fan turned on and pulling the warm summer air through the porch from end to end. The hum of the fan would lull me to sleep under the bathing light of the street lamp that stands just outside the front porch. I remember first, my Grandpa, then my Dad sitting on that porch and smoking their cigarettes next to the outgoing window, where the airflow would carry the smoke out the window into the night. I remember that, there on that porch, I first really read scripture, and first really received an answer to a prayer.

I remember mowing the lawn with my Grandpa. He used one of those green Lawnboy mowers that required a oil/gas mixture. I remember how thick that grass was. It was a complete joy to run through it with no shoes on.

The top of the garage was a fort! It was a home base! It was a landing pad! It was a visiting room, covered with the old kind of lawn chairs that had woven straps that would stretch the longer you sat in them. It was a bar-b-que kitchen! It was even a bed for all the neighborhood kids to sleep on during the clear, starry-sky nights of summer! It was a work shop! it was everything, anything, and nothing really but a garage. But it was wonderful.

The Chinese elm tree would provide the shade. The Honey suckle would provide the fragrance. The Concord grapes that stretch all along the fence and the top of the garage are, and ever have been a reminder that memopries never die, as long as they include God's creations. Those grape vines, provided the color, the juice and the jelly! And they still do! And they ever will!

Here's some pictures from various views around Grandpa's house and our house.