Atchley Memories

A fellow blogger has inspired me to write more about me. My childhood memories, highlights in my life, and places I've seen, want to see or see AGAIN. I'm starting with some childhood memories of visits with my Grandma and Grandpa Atchley. Here goes:

Placing the mattress in the living room floor for Linda (sister), Gayla (cousin) and I. Staying up late, jumping on the mattress, while Grandma sat in her chair and quietly looked on. This is the only time I ever remember her sitting down. Though occasionally she would get up to retrieve more of her homemade dill pickles and saltine crackers for our late night snack.

Digging in the dirt, with Grandma’s old spoons, making tiny houses and towns using our bare feet as molds.

Running up and down the dome-shaped cement cellar.

Swinging on the creaky front porch swing, singing the latest tunes we'd memorized from the radio.

Eating on TV trays, my sisters, cousins and I pretending we were long-lost friends who had met by chance and were catching up on our make-believe husbands and children--always including “the twins.” One of us would just say, "Hiiiiii" and the others would know that was our cue to start the games.

Walking down the dirt road to the creek bridge, picking up gourds and devil’s claws along the way.

Retreating to the storm cellar every time there was a cloud in the sky, (Grandma was terrified of tornadoes) usually wrapped in a quilt with a 7-Up nearby, because I always had tummy aches from the well water. (Or was it the dill pickles?)

Running around shoeless even though there was never a time that someone didn’t have to have a “goat-head” extracted from a bare foot.

Sitting on Grandpa’s lap and answering pointless questions, knowing there was a $5 bill in his bib overalls for a job well done.

Going to Sweetwater (the intersection of two highways) in the back of the pickup and drinking Dr. Pepper.

Lying in the bed of the pickup and looking at the enormous sky with countless stars shining brighter than anywhere else in the world.

Riding with Grandpa in his pickup to feed the cows. Windows rolled down, grasshoppers jumping in and clinging to my skin with their stickly little legs while I'm freaking out screaming bloody murder.

Noise. Large family, big talkers, lots of laughing, never quiet.