I grew up in the city. But, one weekend a month when I was young, I would travel with my Dad 100 miles to the country to stay with my Grandparents while my Dad tended to his reserve duties. It was a weekend I always looked forward to, and a home where so many wonderful childhood memories still exist. So, one day in December, I picked my Grandma up from the Nursing Home and we traveled back to her home for no reason at all.
Even though the home is no longer occupied and three decades have gone by, the living room still looks like I remember it. I remember watching Saturday morning cartoons on the TV (in the center). I remember the old 8-track player that sat on the end table and played Polka music for hours. I remember sitting quietly in this living room listening to my Grandma talk to her friends in Czech on the telephone. And I remember when that AC wall unit was installed. I don't know how we ever survived the summers without it!
This is my Grandma's kitchen. I remember the old cubbard to the left where she would hide the candy bars, the smell of scrambled eggs and ham as it made its way from the kitchen to the bedroom in the mornings, and where every little item was to help bake cookies. She made GREAT cookies!
These were the sausage barrels. Making sausage was a family affair. We would sit parallel on either sides of the table and work in an assembly line. I was always best at tying off the ends, so it was next to these barrels where I usually sat. When the barrels were full, we carried them to the smke house for the best dry sausage around. In all my years of trying, nothing beats good old butchered, seasoned, grinded, cased, dried in a smoke-house home sausage like we used to make it! Except, of course, when paired with cheese and a Shiner Bock!
Me and my Grandmother spent many days in this kitchen, at this sink, washing eggs we had just picked. My Grandma can tell some funny stories from when I was little and full of questions on where the eggs came from and why they needed to be washed. The stories are so much funnier now, listening to her tell them to her great grandchildren.
The jars. You name it, and it came out of the garden and into these jars. I remember one season helping to pick cucumbers from the garden and getting bit a dozen or so times from a fire ant pile. Needless to say, I didn't go back in the garden. Ants still creep me out.
Oh how I wanted to take these with me. These were the old metal band-aid boxes they had when I was a kid. Only, when the bandaids ran out, we used the tins for all kinds of things...lost buttons, beeds, and crayons are what I remember. They were the best storage boxes for us girls!
And the coke bottles we used to feed a calf or two or three...
My grandparents old ice cream maker. We would pull this out in the summertime, and all sit under the carport to enjoy it. I remember it being so hot, you practically had to inhale it before it would melt. I can still taste the sugar.
The old meat hooks from the hogs still hang in the garage.
And the old meat grinder still shelved among items that haven't been used in years.
While years have passed, and I have grown, the memories never fade. On this trip, I found a new appreciation for my youth and the life my Grandparents lived. It was just me and my Grandmother together walking room to room, talking and laughing recalling fond memories. Some of the stories she would recall I hadn't ever heard. It made me smile just to watch her share them. Every once in a while, my Dad would join us to look at something we had run across. It was like picking up pictures from an old photo album.
While the distance makes it difficult to visit as much as I would like, spending a few hours with my Grandma on this day, and sharing conversation as grown adults made this one of the best memories.
We couldn't leave Texas without a stop at Nana's house. The kids love to visit Nana and were entertained for hours with their favorite game- Dominoes. 
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