Reminiscing

When I look at these beautiful mountains surrounding me and these old roads I've traveled down, I think of the many memories made every time my feet hit the ground.

It may not mean much to some but it's worth more than money can buy. An old country girl having lived the good life and praising God until I die.

So many paths I've taken, my yearning heart has always brought me back, to this grand old place where the simple life is still intact.

Walking down a little trail to my grandparents house many a yesterday. Helping grandma with her canning, peeling peaches, apples and anything else I could get into made my day.

Slipping down below their house to the little plum tree. My goodness those plums were sweet as could be even when I had to shake the tree.

Even after I became a teenager I walked that little trail many a time. Just to sit, talk and listen awhile, brought so much joy to my heart and peace to my mind.

Sitting in that little porch swing listening to them talk about their yesterdays, really stuck with me and shaped me in so many ways.

Then after I went to work and had a little money to spend, I couldn't wait to take them a present every now and then.

One Christmas in particular I bought Pa a brand new pair of Hush Puppy Shoes. Christmas Eve was his birthday and it was even more special. He sure did love those shoes.

Of course I never did leave grandma out, she always thought of me. I sure did love those cathead biscuits she kept in the little cabinet, I ate one everytime I got the opportunity.

Me and my girlfriends flattened out many a trail, since we walked quite often to the store. We surely did enjoy it when we got a little money, we let the hammer down even more.

A few pennies in our pockets, burning the most you ever seen. That RC and Moon pie sure did taste good when you save your money by working in between.

There wasn't many hills and trails we didn't manage to find, and plenty of trails that wasn't there until we made our own kind.

And the pleasure of walking down an old dirt road, picking wildflowers and the smell of honeysuckles and looking at my other Little Ma's roses that she planted and growed.

She planted those roses clear across the country side, a legacy that keeps on giving. Every spring when I see those roses I think of her and it feels like a part of her is still living.

And my other grandpa I never had the privilege to know. He died before I was born but there's a big part of him that I see everywhere I go.

I can hear his voice and see his face in that little gristmill he owned. Today I live on the very spot where all the gristmill commotion went on.

My grandpa's not gone, I've wrote about him before. He's still alive today in my heart and the echoes I hear everytime I walk out the door.

And his blood and grit will always run through my veins. His strength and determination became what I am today. I can still see him down every road, trail and lane.

There's so many places I've walked, especially to church with a whole gang tagging along. Made me feel quite big, brave and strong.

Oh how I loved those night time revivals, they made me happy as a lark. Even though I was scared to death of those haints that everyone told about lurking around after dark.

So many scary stories were told by so many older folks around. A headless woman, a crying baby, it's no wonder we thought the booger man was after us everytime our feet hit the ground.

One would think after coming straight from church after being renewed we wouldn't have been so scared of the booger man waiting to perch.

We were all scared of our shadow if the truth be told. But it didn't stop us one bit from being out after dark, we acted really grown up and bold.

Even on Halloween we'd walk a mile or two for one piece of candy. Now days kids doesn't think walking is much fun and to be honest it ain't to smart and dandy.

And playing outside was the only video games we knew. Sometimes our imagination got the best of us and we got into trouble a time or two.

Throwing rocks and accidentlly hitting one another in the head. Knowing fully well we could have killed someone, we paid the price when we hit the bed .

It's like the old saying, I threw a rock at my brother and I got there first and so did my mother.

And we rode an old bicycle without any brakes, flying through the air, briars brambles and snakes.

It's a wonder we ain't all dead but it was not meant to be. Kids being kids, curious and free. But our daddy and mama didn't agree.

My mama bless her heart we just about drove her crazy sometimes. She once said, we wouldn't have made it if The Good Lord hadn't been watching over us all the time.

But now when I look back upon it all and remember when, I wish a thousand times I could do it all over again.

Well most of it anyway, some I'd rather forget. Like the time I almost died trying out my grandma's sweet snuff, I might as well have been dead.

And maybe all the times I hit my brothers over the head with a broom. Nay, They deserved it and so much more, that's certainly a presume.

But that was just our way of showing that we loved one another. It may sound odd to some but it was our way of looking out for one another. Of course we tried to convince our mother.

In all honesty, our daddy and mama taught us right from wrong. We may not have had many material things but in our house God and Love was mighty strong.

Our clothes may have looked ragged and worn but mama always said, rags are honorable as long as they're clean and she made sure of that every wash day morn.

I carried many buckets of water from that little spring, filling up those big wash tubs on wash day and taking baths to keep clean.

Those big wash tubs had two handles, one on each side and we'd set them in the sun. It was a sure way of having warm water to take baths when the day was done.

We considered ourselves lucky since the spring was close by in the back yard. Some had to carry their water a lot farther and up hills, bound to been hard.

I'll never forget the little dipper that hung up above the spring on a limb. Nothing like a drink of cold, spring water on a hot, summer day from the little dipper, it sure was a gem.

Especially after hoeing in the garden since the break of dawn. Running for that dipper of water and going inside for dinner (lunch) eating them fresh veggies, fresh grown.

After a long day at school, a piece of cornbread and a little green onion tasted really good. All part of an old country girl's life and childhood.

Carrying milk home from the neighbors when we got without a cow. We could drink a gallon a day and buttermilk to, if mama would allow.

I remember churning that buttermilk all day in that churn jar. Thought to my soul my arms were gonna fall off. It took that butter a long time to come to the top of that jar.

Awe, there's so many things I could write about. I feel like a queen sitting on her throne, without a doubt.

And when the echoes start calling me back to my past, I listen and tell my stories , fresh as the morning dew on the green grass. It rekindles my heart to go back to that wonderful, old past.

And there's nothing that I'll ever forget or leave behind. An old country girl living in a country world where God hung the moon, stars, and sun out to shine

                                                        © Susie Swanson, 2015

Old Barns and Old People

I hope ya'll enjoy this video as much as I do.. Be sure your Speakers are on before you click it..

Thanks, ~Susie

Grandpa, Ole Buddy and Me

Time moved much slower back then

Me and grandpa made sure of that

There was always plenty of time for a nap

When summer turned up the thermostat

The leaves rustling in the warm breeze

Laying in the shade of that old oak tree

We spent many a warm summer afternoon

Resting up for the next fishing spree

Chomping at the bits we could hardly wait

To dig those worms and grab that pole

The best memories were surely made

Sitting on the bank of that old fishing hole

Grandpa would use his old hat for a fan

All the while, telling his stories and tales

He taught me a lot about life in general

While fishing and walking down those pig trails

Awe, our ole dog Buddy, I’ll never forget

Every now and then he’d breakaway

On most days, he wore himself plum out

Oh how he loved to run and play

Running through those thickets and briars

He’d chase those rabbits all day long

Then he’d come and lay down beside us

Those rabbits knew how to string him along

So many things to do and places to be

And we never missed an opportunity

To explore the world and lay in the shade

Grandpa, Ole Buddy and me

© Susie Swanson,2015

The Old Barn

                                                 There's an old barn
                                                 sitting all silent and still
                                                 what a story it could tell
                                                 out there in that big, open field

                                                 Back when times were different
                                                 there were alot of things going on
                                                 to look at the old barn today
                                                 no one would never have known

                                                 It was very fond of the cows
                                                 that used to all gather in
                                                 when it came milking time
                                                 and the milk they were willing to lend

                                                 Oh those pesky chickens
                                                 they were always running around
                                                 looking to build their nests
                                                 for then they were homeward bound

                                                 It could never forget the horses
                                                 that each evening had to be fed
                                                 especially during the winter
                                                 before they were put to bed

                                                 Oh how it loved the children
                                                 when they used to come and play
                                                 up in that big, old hayloft
                                                 each and everyday

                                                 There the old rope is still hanging
                                                  they used to swing on that old thing
                                                  with all their child-like noise
                                                  what joy it did bring

                                                  The old barn surely did feel needed
                                                   in that other place and time
                                                   it seems so sad today
                                                   just to walk away and leave it behind
       
                                                   In my mind I'll hold on to the picture
                                                   when I walk through that big, old door
                                                   then it'll stay with me forever
                                                   and never be forgotten anymore

                                                    © Susie Swanson, 2015

This is one I wrote and published in my first book, "Rhymes Of My life" back in 2010.. I know alot of you have read this but it came to mind when I posted the video up at the very top on the right.. You will see it just above my Book info.. If ya'll would like to watch it just click on it and it should pop up... It's called, "Old Barns and Old People"  It brings tears to my eyes every time I watch it.. I hope you enjoy .. God Bless, ~Susie

When I See An Old House

When I see an old house on display

So many fond memories come to mind

 Children laughing and playing everyday

So much joy and happiness left behind

I see green grass and flowers in bloom

Big tall trees that reach high as the sky

The kitchen being the most popular room

On the window sill sits a tasty, apple pie

The clotheslines are hanging full as can be

Beautiful quilts airing in the spring time sun

Windows being washed, gardening tremendously

So many chores to do and happily having fun

There’s that old swing hanging from a tree

Where many childhood days were well spent

Oh the sound of children’s voices so merrily

Depicts the joys of innocence that still ascent

When I see an old house it touches my heart

To hear in those home-sweet rooms laughter ring

Knowing such timeless beauty will always stand apart

Like the squeaking noise of that old porch swing

A century of growth, sun and rain can never erase

Or take away the priceless stories still left to tell

Even the old chimney stands proud, tall with grace

A reminder of a fireplace and the warmth that it held

A house holds more than paint, walls and floors

It holds the treasured love of those that lived within 

 So much peace and tears of happiness, it still pours

Built the foundation to last forever without end

When I see an old house it speaks loud and clear

It soothes my soul and gives me peace of mind

To know there’s a clear cut past to others so dear

How could I ever forget or leave it all behind

© Susie Swanson, 2015

Down An Old Dirt Road

Old dirt roads remind me of walkin to church come Sunday morning and walkin back come Sunday night. They remind me of walkin to the little country store with mama's list in hand. Those early morning walks to catch the school bus and walkin back in home at end of day, stoppin long  enough take our shoes off and wade across the little creek come warm weather, is priceless.

The fresh morning smells of honeysuckle, wild roses, mountain laurel or crabapple blossoms drifting in the spring time air, or walkin in those big snows that were knee deep in the winter, rollin in the snow and throwin snowballs at each other along the way.

Taking refuge under a big tree come a hard, summer's rain and still takin a wettin and lovin it to no end. Then runnin through mud holes with our bare feet, bustin em wide open, never thinkin about gettin the toe itch till it was to late.

Ahhhh, how can I forget the huckleberries and that sweet taste. We knew exactly where they came up and picked em fast as they ripened, along side the road.

And those delicious blackberries we picked  for mama to can and lookin forward to that fresh blackberry cobbler, all the while eatin more than we picked. Never thinkin twice about the chiggers or poison ivy till it was to late.

Climbin over barbed wire fences and rippin our clothes to pick poke salat for mama. She didn't take to kindly to the ripped clothes or the dangers of gettin snake bit but the poke salat changed the subject really quick.

  Ridin an ole, rusted bicycle around every curve and bend, with nary a brake knowin we'd hit the ditch or the creek. It's a wonders we hadn't broke our neck or worse.

And tryin to outrun the others to get the mail every day and stumpin our toes along the way. They never did have a chance to heal. When cold weather settled in and we had to wear shoes we'd still hobble down those ole roads.

I couldn’t count how many trips we made to and fro carryin gallons of milk from the neighbors when we were between cows, hungry for some good cornbread and milk to go along with supper, sometimes making a complete meal out of it.

 And how can I forget  takin a few poufs off of a cigarette butt after snatchin it outta the yard when daddy threw it down. Ahhhh, the sickness and turnin green that followed, I'd sure like to forget and is still a reminder today. I said then and there, "never again". Whewww.

It didn't matter the season or the weather, we made memories to last a lifetime and those ole dirt roads paved the way.

There's so many memories that still linger. I go back quite often and listen to the echoes of a childhood full of many seeds that's been sowed. How can we ever forget an old dirt road.

                                                 © Susie Swanson, 2016

This is just a little something I wrote from the picture above. I figured ya'll may be thinking I'd flown the coop so I better post something.. I usually take a lot of pride in my Writing and enjoy Blogging, etc. but I've been laid up, so to speak even more so since last week. Ongoing Thyroid issues and trying to adjust without a gallbladder, has just about done me smack-ka-dab in. Most folks get by fairly easy without the Gallbladder but I should've known it wouldn't be easy for me, nothing is.. It all works together. When you have Thyroid problems and the lack of a thyroid it all goes haywire.. Sorry for the Poor Me Trip but I'm feeling rather lousy and praying really hard this all will soon pass or I'll lose what little mind I got left.. Thanks for all of the prayers and I'll be back soon as possible.. ~Susie

A Little Bit Of History

Now

Everybody knows by now that I'm a History buff when it comes to digging up stuff from the past.

I've had alot of folks ask me about this old church and I dug a little deeper to find some info .

It's called the Estonian Evangelical Lutheran Church and it's located in Lincoln, County just east of Bloomville Wisconsin.

It was settled by Estonian immigrants around 1900. They built it around 1914.. 

It was still in use in the 1950's and after that the young people moved away and the older folks died off, so the community was essentially gone by the 1960's..

                                                            

                                                                     Before

                                           Happy Fourth Everyone and God Bless!! ~Susie