It is kind of funny, really;
We think we can remember things in our past
but those memories are just a little glimpse of time....
one brief moment.
In the home I grew up in we had this enclosed back porch
that housed the washer and sugar barrel.
The back porch was the way to get outside,
the way to the half bath,
to the cellar,
the basement,
the attic and the back bedroom.
Each area and object is a separate memory all on it's own.
From the washer,
the clothes were taken outside and hung on the clothesline.
The wooden clothespins kept the tablecloths, sheets, and all of our clothes
billowing away until dry.
The denim pants were hung on pant stretchers kept in the half bath.
The sugar barrel was a 50 gallon size.
That much sugar is almost a ridiculous amount to store in today's world
but it was mostly used to preserve fruit and
make delicious deserts and breads for our family.
I loved to go out and scoop and break up the dried lumps of sugar.
Because of the high water table,
the fruit cellar filled with water each spring.
We had to stand on cinder blocks
and use rubber boots to get to the fruit on the shelves.
The narrow cement stairs always had to be swept for spiders.
Even though the basement was only a few steps down
we still called it the basement.
It led to the outside
and provided a place for Dad and the boys
to take off their dirty boots, coats and gloves from the farm.
It also housed the coal bin and coal furnace.
There was a desk for keeping records
and a roll-up mattress to use when we had company.
That mattress was a soft perch for the cats
when I was relegated the task of sweeping and cleaning the basement.
However, the cats really weren't allowed in the house, ever!
The attic had treasures
but not a good floor.
We had to be very careful when we played there
so that we wouldn't accidentally step through the cardboard ceiling.
We could crawl across the boards from the attic entry
and come out in a wardrobe closet in another part of the basement.
The back bedroom belonged to the boys
and the door had a creak in it.
Seriously, the door would creak about every 90 seconds.
But today's glimpse is really about the hole,
in the corner,
out on the porch.
It was just the size for a marble to sit in.
I can see it in my mind.
It seems so funny that a tiny marble,
pushed in tightly,
could keep out such a critter as a little mouse.
But it seemed to work.
By the way....
mice were,
also,
not allowed in our house.
But that doesn't mean it didn't happen....
on occasion.
