I Am Consciousness Itself

 

INTRODUCTION TO

STORIES FROM THE FRONT PORCH

By C. S. Roberts

 

                               Family Picture of the McMullans and Freemans

     Growing up in the 1950’s was a wonderful time of playing outside and sharing time with family and friends. When I was young, we didn’t have a television set, so the entertainment came from listening to the radio, enjoying stories from the memories and lives of our elders and our own imaginations.

     I was very fortunate to spend a lot of time with my maternal grandparents. Mom, my younger brother and I lived with them when Daddy was at a duty station where we couldn’t go (He was in the Navy). We got to learn about rural and city life when with the Grands and other cultures and countries when we traveled with Dad.

     This (soon to be a book) is a compilation of stories from several different generations. They are set in bygone years (as far back as just after the Civil War up to some of my grandchildren) and told in the vernacular and jargon of the time. Some of the phrases and references may sound foreign, harsh, raciest or mean however, I have attempted to hold the feel and sound of the time in which the stories were told without being overtly provocative. 

     All stories are from my personal collection and were gathered with the full knowledge of the person telling the tale to me. I have changed as little as possible to take the anecdote from the spoken word to print.

     I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoyed collecting them and putting them on paper to share with you.

C. S. Roberts copywrite 2925 all rights reserved

    

 

MEMAW’S PORCH

as told by Madelon to Peggie and Martin

     Memaw’s porch was truly a place of magic! Each time I visited, there was something new and interesting to investigate. She was a flower grower and had pots of flowers all around the porch and could tell me the names of every one of the plants. After I had been told several times, I began to remember them. Let’s see, that one was Pauline Periwinkle. Over there was Francis Fern. There was a whole row of Ginny Geraniums, some Woodsy Violets, there were violets galore, Lizzy the Gizzard Plant, Pepperomia, Sue-Linn Jade and huge pots of Benny Begonias in all colors.

     The plants were lovely but what was especially interesting about them was who inhabited each one. Memaw collected animals almost the way she collected plants. Ginny Wren nestled in the ferns and didn’t like it very much when I tried to peek into her nest, she was very fussy about who she allowed to look. Memaw could peek in any time, so I learned to squeeze under her elbow and peek too.

     Crocus Frog lived in the crown of thorns. He knew that he was protected because those thorns were very sharp as I found out, to my dismay. But if I sat very still and was very patient, he would pop out to snare an unwary fly. I gathered many flies for him by using the handy fly swatter. He seemed to enjoy them as much as the live ones he caught.

     Over in the geraniums there lived a family of chameleons. As they went from pot to pot and flower to flower, they changed colors to match whatever they were walking on. Once I took some construction paper of different colors and cut pieces to fit in the pots to see if that would make them change. Sure enough! It did! Wow!

     A philodendron vine grew up a trellis. In the vine, near the roof of the porch, a little sparrow had made her nest, and she didn’t mind people peeking. I could climb up and inspect her nest to watch her eggs and I got to see them hatch. I could check whenever I wanted too. She seemed proud of her babies.

     Oh yes, I forgot to mention the Elephant Ears. The big heart-shaped leaves concealed beautiful Calla-Lilly type blooms. If you watched them close enough and long enough you could see the flowers unwrapping themselves. The thing that made this pot so interesting, besides the fact that it took two people to move it, was that Papaw kept his fishing worms in it. Willie Wigglers could be called to the surface by putting a stick in the dirt and rubbing another stick across it, making a kind of grunting sound.  The Willies would soon appear, and Papaw would take a few with him to the fishing pond. That night we would have catfish and hushpuppies for dinner.

     Other animals played around the porch when anyone was sitting in the rocking chairs. Whee-hee the colt would come galloping around the corner hoping that someone would have a piece of apple for him. Of course, I always did. Grumpy the turtle would sometimes come creeping out from under the steps to say hi. Chatter the squirrel would race up and down from the tree to the porch and back to gather the peanuts we would throw him. Graykin, the cat and Betsy, the dog were always with us for our evening porch sits.  Both of them would visit each flowerpot to say a friendly hello to its occupants.

     When the sun westered and the late afternoon breeze began it was so nice to sit on the porch among all those animal and plant friends until Old Blue, our head bull, with his big bass bell ringing, would lead the cows up from the pasture for milking time. Any time I got the chance to visit, I would look forward to Memaw’s magic porch.

More installments to follow.