I did a little painting, it's called, "Those were the days, before I knew, those were the days"
It's based on my great grandmother's house, in a tiny town in Tennessee, complete with a tin roof and shingled siding. I remember going there as a child and my aunt Kristine giving me, for Christmas, a little toy which was a boy on a unicycle. I remember laying on the tile floor, winding that toy up again and again, watching it fly around in circles. So content, I was.
My great grandmother, Ruby, is still alive, at 88. In her yard is a school bus, which if you've ever been to the South, is nothing new. When we were younger, it was filled with bees. She also had tin tubs, where I used to watch her pull out worms for selling. And of course, chickens running amuck. Story is, one of my cousins at a very early age beheaded a rooster and Ruby was angry indeed. Who will remember these things when we are all gone?
So whenever I find myself pondering at my own growth, wondering who I am, or where I've been, I always resort back to that Christmas, and remember, 'Oh Yeah, I was that toothless blond yappy child who visited her grandmother in the woods, churning butter and milking cows, and playing wind up toys'.
If you have adorable childhood stories, or real life magic moments...I would love to hear them.