A Few More Memoirs and Family History

This is a continuation of the memories my mother has about her childhood times spent with her grandfather Charles J. Finger. I love these stories all the more for thinking of the book he wrote featuring my mother (Bobbie and Jock and the Mailman) because Jock was a Scottie ... illustrated by my Great Aunt Helen. I thought that I already had posted these but, better late than never, eh?

You all know the big table we have in the living room; that was the dining table in my grandfather's day. It came from his railroad days, as mentioned in the biography and he had it sent from (Cleveland?). People as famous as Carl Sand and Sinclair Lewis ate at it. I seem to remember fried chicken every Sunday, but I was only allowed boiled - how I craved that delicious fried, but it wasn't considered healthy for children. But what wonderful biscuits my grandmother made, and I scarfed them down loaded with her homemade srawberry jam. My grandfather would order a cup of maraschino cherries for me if we went to a restaurant ... my mother always thought they caused boils on my back. Oh well, what did they know.

There were double doors to the living room, and one year my Grandfather dressed up like Santa Claus and flung them open with drama. It was to be a great surprise, but I burst into tears, ran away, and hid. What a flop to a grand enterprise!

At the bottom of the hill was a true country store, selling cattle salt blocks, flour in print bags intended to be dresses, etc., and with gas pumps. I remember driving down there with my aunt; I thought she was the most wonderful person I had ever known. She SMOKED, she was very small, and she was so peppy and had a wonderful accent. Of course, she wasn't married and had no children so it was easy for her.

I actually remember hired hands squirting milk at cats during milking. Yes, trite as it sounds, they actually did that !

As I said before, hired help must have been really cheap. They mowed the grass, did laundry, but unfortunately never were hired to cook to help out my grandmother and mother. Charlie provided chickens, and Helen never had to do anything because she was an artist (my mother said). Don't know what the other two boys did ... one ran away from home and probably with good reason considering my grandfather's autocratic disposition. He was a wonderful grandfather, though.

There were screened porches around three sides of the house, and I seem to remember living out there most of the time. Since we usually visited only in the summer that would be natural. One morning I got up and found one of my shoes filled with cherry pits, apparently tucked in there by a mouse.

My aunt Helen raised Scotties, and Airdales. I loved the dogs, but was especially fascinated by seeing them eat rabbits, always head first. There was a fish pond in the middle of the front yard, and I remember one of the puppies drowning there; Beverly also fell in once but was quickly retrieved. The pond was surrounded by old fashioned petunias, and their fragrance always takes me back to those days and reminds me of my sweet grandmother who loved them.

OK, now you have the best of my very young childhood memories, for better or worse. You might want to compile some of yours for your own children. Old age comes quicker than you think! I have regretted many times not sitting down with my parents and talking with them about earlier years.