Even today I love visiting people, especially those who have a different life style than I. That seems to be the case with Lucy visiting her friend Dorothy when she was twelve. At that age I would get on the train (lovingly called the Galloping Goose) and go to Pettibone to visit my Aunt Elaine and Uncle Henry. Pettibone was a tiny town, Henry had a huge and wonderful shop, and a yard full of worn out construction equipment. The smell of grease and engine oil always take me back to that shop.
In this letter Lucy reminds us that memories of visits like these make a lasting impression. Let’s go back to that time now.
When I was twelve I was head and shoulders taller than any of the girls in our class. I sang with Dorothy Waterfall, the shortest girl in our room.
Going to Waterfalls was such fun. In summer they had a real tent (not a blanket over a clothes line) and also had real food in their cupboards. They had cots in the tent and would sleep out there.
How many of you have heard the old folks telling the story about walking to school, uphill, both ways, into the wind, and it was snowing? This is that story. The real one. She doesn’t mention the stones they had heated on the cook stove and put at their feet to ward off the winter chill.
Compare this experience to today’s children driven to school in the SUV with booster chairs, air bags, seat belts and air conditioning. This is where the grumpy old man starts talking about how pampered the youngsters are today. If the pace of change continues the way it has since Grace went to school in the thirties and forties, life will be pretty exciting at the end of this century. I’d love to be there to see it!
There are little things that keep popping up in my memory like “picking crocus out in the pasture behind the school house.” One spring there was so many blooming + the teacher let us all go out and pick them. They were a welcome sign of spring.