Little childhood memories...just pick one.

We had some distant cousins who owned a big farm and we would visit a few times a year. A couple of times my sister and I stayed there for a week or so. I thought it was so cool to have your own dirt road going through your property and you could ride a bike on it for what seemed a long distance. Loved playing hide and seek in the rows of corn. We would go down to the neighbours and ride on their ponies.

I wanted to grow up and live on a farm (having no idea how much work it was), but decided against it because I gagged from the smell every time I went into a barn. :playful:
 

Having grown up with a paranoid schizophrenic mother...there are many stories I could share. Instead will share the memory of waking up each morning to the smell of bread baking. My grandfather, who had been an executive chef on the Italian Steamship line, in the era of international luxury cruises..lived with us. He had a kitchen in the cellar, with brick ovens and baked bread nightly. Always made a small crispy loaf, just for me. On Sundays, having fasted for communion, I could hardly wait for Mass to be over. So I could rush home to a loaf of still warm bread and the Sunday paper.
 
Ameriscot said:
We had some distant cousins who owned a big farm and we would visit a few times a year. A couple of times my sister and I stayed there for a week or so. I thought it was so cool to have your own dirt road going through your property and you could ride a bike on it for what seemed a long distance. Loved playing hide and seek in the rows of corn. We would go down to the neighbours and ride on their ponies.
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wow!! Sounds like Halcyon times Annie... :D I would have loved that..
 
I just remembered another to share. My mother was paranoid about guns. Dad knew how we loved the idea of target shooting so unbeknownst to my mother he bought a .22 rifle which he kept in the trunk of the car. He would take us for a ride out in the country and we would all shoot targets awhile. When we used up a box of ammunition he put the rifle back in the car trunk and we went back home. None of the three of us ever mentioned it to mom.
 
One of my best memories was summer vacation. We would go to the shore for the first two weeks of July. A lot of my Aunts and Uncles would also come down with their children. We rented apartment next to each other so me ,my sister and brother got to spend time with many cousins. Playing on the beach , going to the boardwalk and going on all the rides and then getting a treat of ice cream before going back to the apartments and hanging around together. We had a ball and we all had cousins our own age. After all these years we still get together once a year for a family picnic.
 
I can recall my great-grandfather's voice but not his face (I have pictures of him so I know what he looks like, but not in my "mind"). The only memory I have of him was when I was about three (he died shortly after). We were visiting him on the farm and I asked to ride his old mule. He said the mule was too mean to ride, but he'd take me out to ride a cow. I can vividly remember him talking to the cow, asking her to be a good girl and let his sweetie-girl ride on her. I rode that cow all the way back to the barn, with him holding on to the back of my shirt so I didn't fall off the other side. I was so proud of myself for riding that cow.
 
I remember my Grandma making jelly and pouring paraffin on the top to seal the jars. Their house always smelled so good during the summer while she simmered the fruit to just the right consistency. I helped her pick the wild blueberries,actually they called them huckleberries, the day before but didn't last to long before I got hot and bored. I had no trouble eating the end result though.
 
I remember grandma letting me help her make butter. I would shake that jar what seemed like forever, but oh the results were sooo good. Then sleeping out in the front yard on a old mattress and then waking up in the morning and looking at the clouds and figuring out what they looked like. Good times for sure.
 
I remember my great grandmother who was well into her nineties and as deaf as a post.She had a giant ear trumpet rather than hearing aids and if you said something to her she would put to her ear and shout "Whaaaat?"
 
I remember my gramma smiling that sweet smile of hers.... while watching me swallow a big spoon of Hershey's unsweetened cocoa powder.
She had quite the fractured sense of humor
 
mine was on uk hols ---camping at the sea side i was 4 years old -my brother was 3 years older we was walking around a well we found in the field ' i went in long drop not much water really -he ran got family' dad come down got me out -all i remember lol
 
My grandfather used to work at a sugar factory. I loved going walking with him especially when we'd go by the train tracks so I could pick up strangely shaped sugar beets that fell off the trains. By the factory there were giant piles of beets which rose like huge mountains above an otherwise flat landscape. My grandfather didn't talk a lot, he'd point at a big grasshopper on a sugar beet, or a rabbit, or a funny shaped cloud. He showed me everything in the world around me without saying anything. Here's a pic he took of me with one of those weird shaped sugar beets

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