Saturday, November 21, 2009

Picture Postcard Setting

Our house sat on a hill. Now this might not seem unusual to most people, but our part of the county was flat. Having a house on a hill was a bit out of the ordinary. Dad always thought that maybe the creek long ago had been a river that ran along the base of this hill. Perhaps it was a water line from an age when no one lived on this land. Whatever it was, it gave the house a lovely setting overlooking our friends and neighbors.

I often talk about the lane, this long strip of gravel that saw the Loxley girls grow up. Doris and Victor lived across the road. Hollie and Margaret lived on down the road. The bridge sat across the creek the other direction. The lane saw us to and from the bus as well as giving us skinned knees as we traversed the gravel on our bikes. The lane took us to visit neighbors, to toss stones into the creek and to find our way to the news the mailbox held waiting.

When the rains came, the water ran across the lowest part of the lane where it flooded from our field to Hollie's. It was difficult as a kid to walk down the lane at these times avoiding the mud puddles. They were deep and great for splashing. In the winter, they froze. We slipped and slid over the ice laughing and loving every minute of frozen wonder.

Living on a hill was the best in the winter. Old sleds were pulled from the barn. Kids were bundled head to toe barely able to move. Down the hill and into the field we would fly. Popcorn balls and hot chocolate waited for us when we finally dragged ourselves into the house wet, cold and delighted.

A picture postcard setting. A house on a hill surrounded by corn, surrounded by snow, surrounded in the past. Everyone should be so lucky. I know I was.

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