Going Home Again (In my Heart)

Eating at Grandma's House...............

He's probably tired from watching the sewer ditch

Welcome to the best place in the world!

Lately, I've been pulling out bluegrass CDs and listening to them. One of them I have been listening to is The Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rvV-4NNOMhQ&p=A3C06B69A72119C1&playnext=1&index=19 Listening to this song has brought back of many memories of growing up. I think most of us grow up thinking, "I can't wait until I grow up!" Then, when we do, we sometimes think, "goodness, I wish I could go back to being a child." (unless you had a terrible childhood) I, for one, will never be writing about my terrible childhood. I had the best parents, grandparents, friends, and the best town to grow up in that anyone could ever have ever asked for. When I go home again in my heart, I remember getting up in the morning, usually daddy had to come in my room several times before I got my lazy self out of the bed, but anyway..... Daddy always had my breakfast cooked. Sometimes, if it was the weekend, I would run barefooted across the road to my PapPaw and Nanny's house just in time for the homemade biscuits that Nanny was pulling out of the oven. Nanny always fussed about my bare feet. She always said, I was gonna have feet as flat as pancakes from going barefoot so much. Nanny always had a yard full of flowers and I would sometimes sneak and pick some to take home because as I told my Nanny as she fussed at me, "But, my mama doesn't have pretty flowers in her yard." PapPaw died in 1989, but I remember many things about him. He loved to fish, and fuss at Nanny about her cooking. But, in truth, Nanny was always trying to cook his favorite things like fried catfish or salmon croquettes. Any day of the week, there were several things that I could predict about Nanny and PapPaw's house. PapPaw was gonna go to Wayne's Service Station and sit for hours shooting the bull with all the local men. Nanny was always gonna have a great home cooked meal, her house was gonna smell of PineSol by 10 in the morning because the whole house would be clean by then, and she would sometimes be sitting on the couch rolling her hair up in rollers. That's something I don't see anymore........... she is way too feeble now to roll her hair up in those rollers that you stick the plastic hair stick in. My cousin Jason would usually be at PapPaw and Nanny's riding his tricycle, or standing up on the seat in PapPaw's truck as they rode away to Wayne's Service Station. PapPaw loved that boy past the moon and back. My friends and I would walk to town, or ride our bikes all over town. If we didn't have enough bikes, we would have one of us riding on the handlebars. I remember us laughing and giggling as the unfortunate one was trying to stay on the handlebars without falling off and skinning their knees. Many trips to Stubb's Drug Store were made to get ice cream or a milk shake made by Rosie who loved us and was always glad to see us. There was always a group of coffee drinkers sitting around the tables that were set up in the middle of the drug store. These kind of things were constant in a small town like Belzoni. There was always and still is a meeting place of sorts like Wayne's Service Station, Stubb's, or the famous Pig Stand where the local people would sit, drink coffee, and shoot the bull about how State was gonna whoop Ole Miss' tale, or vice versa every week. Since it's close to Halloween, I remember the year we all dressed up in our best army fatigues or at least dark clothing, and ran all night from the cops throwing water balloons at each car that passed. Our backyard was the best place to throw water balloons. It was the perfect place to hide down in the bayou that ran through town. One year, daddy sat outside in a lawn chair and watched as we threw water balloons at cars. Sometimes the occupant would stop, get out and cuss us like dogs. Daddy just laughed at us because he was cool like that and knew we were only being "kids". My brother's room always looked like a dungeon, and for some reason I always had to clean my room, while he didn't. He would tape signs to the door that said, "Keep Out!" No need for that, we didn't want to go in there and find what science projects were growing under his bed. We rode the school bus. Our driver was a sweet lady, Mrs. Tina Holloway. The "town bus" as we called was packed! All the older kids sat in the back, and the younger ones like myself sat up front. She tried her best to keep us in line. I hate to say it, but it was probably the loudest, rowdiest bus ever! Bless her soul! Crawling under our house was by far the scariest experience ever. Between the spider webs and dirty floor, this was somewhere I didn't want to be. One year I babysat my cousin Jason, and he hid under the house next door and would not come out. Well, I wasn't going in there to get him. Too scary! Our school was great......... we had the loudest pep rallies, the best band. I can still do the drum beats in my head that they played every Friday at the pep rally and football game. Our stands were always packed with fans, and we loved our team. In fact, I hate to say it, but we could get a little rude on occasion. We didn't want to lose! Dress up days were every Friday, and everyone tried to have the best costume. If it was Nerd Day, you saw the best looking nerds ever. It was truly a competition that everyone participated in. It hurts my heart that many kids today think they are just too cool to show their school spirit. Sundays were typical of any other town in the South. We went to Sunday School and Church. Then, we went to Grandma Savell's house where there was a spread of food waiting on us. We ate until we were stuffed, sat around and visited with each other, and some of us (Aunt Kay) would sneak back to Grandma's room and take an afternoon nap. Any given Sunday would find us riding three wheelers all up and down the strip that ran in front of Grandma's or flushing items down her toilet and running outside as fast as we could to see it come out into the sewage ditch. It didn't take much to entertain us! There was a room in Grandma's house that we called the "Back Bedroom" We thought the closet in this room held many hidden treasures, and we also, thought the room was haunted so no one ever wanted to sleep back there. Of course, we wouldn't have been caught dead going through the closet either, for fear of the wrath of Grandma. My cousin Hayley had an original Grease record, and we'd put the record on in Hayley's room and dance our hearts out. Many nights we slept with the windows up, and we weren't scared. It was great, actually! Sometimes the ride home from Silver City was at night, and I would lie on the back seat of mama's car, and I could tell by the lights outside the car just where I was on the trip home. In fact, the lights at the old service station on Silver City Road right before we got into town were the brightest lights I had ever seen. I played outside until the street lights came on, and the mosquito truck would come down the road blowing the white fog of mosquito spray. I can still hear the locusts making their sounds just before it was time to go inside for the night. The bayou behind our house was the best place to explore, and of course, we were forbidden from playing in it, but we always would sneak back there anyway, and try to walk all the way to the river on the other side of town. As teenagers, other things were constant..... Friday night football games followed by Fifth Quarter at a local church, a bonfire at Goat Hill or Woodyard, and riding country back roads. And, speaking of Woodyard, there was also, a haunted place out there, too called Witch's Well (I think). We would try to ride out there every so often, and scare ourselves. Of course, it was our imaginations, but anyway, it was fun. We used pallets from a local business for our bon fires, and it's cool to me that it was always ok with the adults that we were doing what we were doing. Some local hangouts when I was younger and my brother was a teenager, were Sunflower Parking Lot and Piggly Wiggly Parking Lot. For some reason, the cops always picked on the white kids, and would run us away from these parking lots. I never got that. We were a great group of kids in a one in a million small Delta town. We were only having fun, and I'd give just about anything to go home again. At least, I can always ALWAYS go home again in my heart, as I do often!