Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Story From Guest Author

Story Day again - yes, I know I said I may have to give it up, but so far......... and we will see.

So this one is from my sister; she is four and a half years younger than I and it is one of her memories of the trip to Pennsylvania which I wrote about on 2 Feb 2011(story). Her memories differ from mine, since we all experience things differently, especially as children. I was twelve that summer, and she was seven and a half.


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Grandmom And The Outhouse
58th in the Tuesday Story Series

Here is the story of when I first met Grandmom Alice.  

She was smart, independent, tough, resourceful, and a fun loving Grandmother.  
Her name was Alice and I loved her totally.

I finally met her when I was in grammar school.  She was my mother's mom and she lived in Pennsylvania which is where my Mom grew up.  There are 6 kids in my family, I am number 3, and each one was named after someone except me.  That used to bother me until my Mom explained that she and Pop had let Grandmom Alice pick out my name.  Now that made me special.  I was really looking forward to meeting this woman who had picked out my name.

We left our home in Charleston, South Carolina early in the morning when it was still dark.  Mom and Pop piled all 6 of us into the station wagon and tied down the luggage to the top of the car.

Off we went and it took forever, it seemed, to get there.  We played all the usual car games that we knew, count the cows and then burying them in the graveyards, the alphabet game, the license tag game, we sang, we bickered, slept and ate, and kept asking Pop how many more miles to go, and the answer was always the same; "Oh about 85 or 30".  We finally arrived in the dark at a huge farmhouse and straggled out of the car sleepy but excited.  There were more people there than I expected.  I had thought since we were going to meet Grandmom Alice then that was the only person who should be there.  Being the shy type I kinda hid behind everyone else until I finally realized which one of this crowd was my Grandmom.  She gave me a huge hug and I was ok then.

We were scattered off to bed in different rooms and I ended up being in the same room with her.  What fun, I felt so special to be the only one in the room with her.  She tucked me in and I apparently went straight to sleep, because the next thing I know is waking up in total darkness and was about to bust to get to the bathroom.  I woke her up and asked her where the bathroom was and I was slightly puzzled when she pulled this elaborately decorated pot from under the bed.  No, Grandmom, the bathroom is what I want, thinking she was not fully awake.  She said it was this, pointing to the pot (which I later found out was called a chamber pot) or a trip outside to the outhouse.  Outhouse?  What???  Outhouse?!  I think not!  I can wait until morning.  I'm not about to venture outside in the dark to an outhouse!  And no way was I using the pot!  She laughed and said well you will either go now or wait.  So I waited.  Needless to say I did not sleep another wink and finally the sun started to come up.  As soon as it was enough light she got up and took me to the dreaded outhouse.  It was not as bad as my imagination had blown it up to be while I had been waiting for the morning light.  I was relieved, in more ways than one, that I had survived the whole experience.

The rest of the visit was much calmer for me than that first night.  Except for the visit and 
stay over at my Mom's cousin's dairy farm.  But that's another story.

Judith Marie Livingston


 Thank you Judy!!

Come see my latest postcards I've received on Postcards Buffet!

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