When we would go out to the country to visit Grandma K and Papa, both daughters were drawn to the fence around the yard and house. They would climb up it because it was there. Sometimes they would straddle the fence, other times sit on top facing away from the house, just surveying the pastures, the cows, perhaps watch Papa adjusting the tractor. But, more than once they’d make a beeline to the gate. They’d climb on it and swing on it. Oh it would swing out wide to provide a smooth ride when they were little. The second and third pictures had to have been taken when he wasn’t looking, because surely he would have called out to scold “Don’t swing on the gate! It’ll pull the hinges out.” I love these photos…just snapshots.
There was the fence which they loved to climb.
Then there was the gate which they not only climbed but rode.
“I wanna climb, too.”
I too, remember doing things when my grandma wasn’t looking. When my grandmother from Alaska came to visit, she had her own towel in the bathroom. No one was to use it; it was her towel. When she wasn’t looking I’d wipe my hands on her towel after washing my hands just because it was the closest one to the sink.
When we visited my other grandmother in Mexico, we weren’t allowed on the balcony without someone with us as she lived on the fourth floor of a semi-highrise apartment building. I remember being among the first to wake up, perhaps the first, walking into the living room, carefully and secretly opening the door and just standing out on the balcony in my nightgown looking way down to the street below.
What did you do when grandma or grandpa weren’t looking?
Sweet memories for sure, Georgette. I’m sure my cousins and I did some things we shouldn’t have when we were visiting Grandma! I pity children who don’t have memories of time spent with their grandparents. Happy Sunday to you!
I saw your picture of little M and then my thoughts went to the gate the girls weren’t supposed to climb or ride. The fence was okay, but there was a rule about not climbing or swinging on the gate. Thank you for the inspiration. Happy Sunday to you too!
Aw…I hadn’t even connected my post to yours today! Isn’t it wonderful to find an old photo and have it inspire a post?!
My memories of “swinging on the gate” are so clear, my mind is playing tricks on me. I could have sworn we had some “gate swinging” pictures, yet these were all I could find. Still, I think the girls will smile when they read this one as will Rick. Another one for the “book”. Dor’s tip about blog2print.com has really got my mind thinking about the possibilities — one generic book, various customized ones for each girl?
I know: I really want to get started on that project. Wish I’d done them in 6 month increments BEFORE I had almost 2 1/2 years worth. But I would love to have my blog in book form!
You should, Dianna. You could do a collection of Bacon’s Castle stories including the times your family spent there and present it to the museum.
oh, those photos are SO cute!
(and i never knew any of my grandparents. last one died when i was 1)
I’m sorry these photos are just snapshots. As I told Dianna, I really thought we had others. Go figure.
I remember reading in first grade about Dick and Jane going to grandpa’s farm. I never had that with one grandma in Alaska and the other in Mexico City!??? Then along came marriage, the baby carriage, etc. and then Grandma K’s and Papa’s farm that our girls enjoyed tremendously.
We used to take an old barrel and one of us would climb in and the other 3 pushed it down the hill. It was great fun but somebody always ended up bumped and bruised and in tears so my grandmother told us we could not do it anymore. We did though, when she wasn’t looking. And we never went crying back to the house again.
haha…thank you for sharing that story! I bet you never cried again. Such fun when grandma wasn’t looking!
I read your Seth and Fido story, too– funny!
We weren’t supposed to swing on the gate, either, but none of their warnings stopped us
Hmmm .. my Dad’s parents lived on a big farm less than a mile away. Her house was spotless and shiny as she was a fan of high-gloss paint.
I distinctly remember that we weren’t supposed to play in Aunt Lovina’s bedroom closet (Auntie Lovina was long since married & gone, but that room was always called by that.) Why not the closet? Because it had no back wall .. it turned and went down the hallway a bit and ended inside Grandma and Grandpa’s closet! For an adventurous child who rode ponies and slayed bad guys, such a find was like a dream. Think “Chronicles of Narnia”
Of course we played in there. She caught us every time … I don’t remember getting scolded for it, though. I think she understood how neat it was to us.
Fun post, GS.
MJ
I bet that closet served as your secret passageway to ??? What fun memories. What a kind soul your grandma was to not scold!
I do remember Daughter #1 gave Grandma K a gift one time, a paddle with heart-shaped pillow on the end, and puff painted on it was “Grandma’s paddle.” She hung it on the wall next to her dresser mirror!
Thank you for sharing about the secret closet.
Where is that paddle now?
MJ
Good question. Rick is going out to the farm this afternoon and I’m asking him to look for it. It just might show up as my Valentine post, even though it’s blue!
Georgette, I love your memories but as a parent now, I would’ve been terrified to know you were secretly going on to the balcony without adult supervision. For me, it was jumping on the bed. Strictly forbidden but something I did now and then, anyway.
Oh dear, yes, no jumping on the bed! There was good reason for that rule…daughter #2 jumped on the bed and broke an arm.
This was a wonderful post full of fond memories. I grew up on a farm and visited my grandparetns in the city. I looked so forward to those visits. I am sure there were many things we did when they weren’t looking. One memory is of my aunt and I sneaking a sip of grandpas home made wine. We added water after in case he knew excactly how much was in the bottle!
ooo…you thought of everything! Funny. I’d say you turned out just fine.
My grandmother lived within walking distance of a beautiful beach. For me, it was wading too deep in the ocean surf and playing in waves that could have easily swept me away!
Oh my gosh, you were daring.
Oh I wish I had known my grandparents. They all died before I was 6 years old. I wish too, that I had something they wrote about their lives, and that’s why I wanted to do the “blog book” for my grandchildren. How lucky you are to have swung on that gate and challenged orders. You probably knew deep down their rules were because they loved you. I love this post Georgette and the pics are adorable.
Thank you, Dor. How wonderful you are preparing these books for the grandkids. I am still listing “custom books” for various folks this year. I can’t thank you enough for a project I am off and running with this year.
Aw, what cute pictures of your girls . Sweet memories for them and you. Wasn’t Dor’s suggestion about getting blog ‘books’ printed great? Like Dianna, I wish I’d known about it sooner.
Thank you, mama Cindy. My original plan with this blog was to write family stories…I have over 200 now. Isn’t Dor’s suggestion just a great idea? Just think you could do (1) your book of opportunity year (2) the wedding year, etc. This is a GREAT idea and gift!
Yes, it really is! I love the idea!
Fences, gates, staircases – they all beg to be climbed. Love your pictures. What fun memories.
Thank you, Renee. haha…my mother said I climbed bookcases! Add bookcases to the list.
I’ve thought and thought, and can’t remember a single thing I wasn’t supposed to do at Grandma and Grandpa’s. I got in trouble once for throwing snowballs at the house, but that’s about it. Sometimes I sneaked a couple of extra cookies when no one was looking but mostly I was roller skating, reading, playing on top of the fruit cellar or hanging around listening to the women gossip. When they didn’t want me to know what they were talking about, they’d switch to Swedish.
Your childhood pictures show a great maturity for your years and serious approach. That said, you were a beautiful little girl. Truly. I can’t imagine you would have trespassed the “rules.” Breaking the rules was definitely something I rarely did in Grandma’s or Moesje’s presence, but I do remember those two incidents.
Listening to my father’s mother speak Dutch, and my mother and father end the day with Spanish, made me know I would never be monolingual.
When folks speak another language in the presence of one who doesn’t speak that language there are two assumptions made (1) they are talking about me (2) they are talking about something I’m not privy to. There has always been an interesting discussion in foreign language/bilingual circles about the topic of what we converse about when reverting to a native language — that it not connote anything negative — I know when Mom, Dad or Moesje (my dad’s mother) broke into another preferred language they were just connecting. As my dad would have pointed out — “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not about you.” and I know that conversation was pretty free and open at home.
I don’t have many memories of my own grandparents–just fleeting images. That’s why it’s sweet to read posts like these, and to wonder what kinds of memories Li’l D will have of his own grandmas!
The girls were quite fortunate to meet all four, however really got to know three. Sadly, my dad passed when they were 2 and 6 yrs old. They were much older when Rick lost his parents just six weeks apart. They do remember, though. I never knew my mother’s father and was only 3 when my father’s father passed. My memories really are of grandmas, not grandpas.
That said, I was made very aware of my mother’s dad, and my father’s dad. I felt their presence through my own mom and dad as I think L’il D will feel your mom’s through you. I think it’s wonderful you commissioned the drawing–that will definitely capture his imagination and if it’s hung in your home to look at often, her presence connected to you, will be entwined.
I’m glad you liked my little story.
You always leave me with a smile, Georgette!
So glad, Elyse.
PS I had to delete the “swinging” and “naughty” tags — sheesh. Now that might make you lol.
I am rolling my eyes on your behalf, Georgette.
Sigh.
Precious memories and keepsakes. Sounds to me like you a little girl always looking for an adventure…I don’t think you have changed a bit.
J, These are photos of my girls 26 and 31 now with two grandsons visiting the farm now.
I hope we can keep the place and make another generation of memories.
I imagine swinging on the gate would be quite fun, though not to be done. We always played the big upright piano in the sitting room where no one sat. The men stayed outdoors for the most part, and the women were always busy in the kitchen.
Certainly there was no “banging on the piano.” : ) Oh I haven’t thought of that rule in years.
PS: I tagged you in a blog challenge. Challenging, it is, too! If you’d prefer no to play, I completely understand! It’s time consuming, and I know how little of that there is sometime.
Dianna, thank you for thinking of me. I will check it out and reply.
Too cute … LOVE this one & the memories of my sisters & I walking the fence at our favorite aunt & uncle’s house who had a farm! It was a wooden fence, painted white, & looked a lot like this one, however we would literally walk the top of the fence & we’d have to ‘pass’ whoever got in our way without falling!! Oh, how I love your blog, Georgette … always look forward to the ‘next’ one!
You had good balance to do that! But then maybe the fun was just bringing each other down, falling off and starting all over again to come up with another game.
Thanks, Patrice.
Love these old photographs. Brings back memories of the magical years of childhood. Your daughters had so much fun time. The smiles and laughter just shines beautifully. Have a blessed week.
I so wish we had digital back in the day. Certainly, they aren’t as beautiful as yours now (yours are so, so special and beautifully taken), but still, they’re going in the family book.
Georgette…you little imp. I never would have thought of you and a balcony sneaker. You’ve got some James Dean in you. Yeah…that gate swinging picture brought back a knee jerk reaction for me. Even though you told us in the text “Grandad” would yell for swinging on the gate, the moment I saw the photo, I heard my dads voice, “Get off the gate.” Some memories are ingrained deeply, aren’t they. I ate powdered sugar when no one was looking. (I guess I thought Mom wouldn’t notice that the sack had decreased considerably). Fun. Fun post of sins, Georgette.
When I revealed what the girls would do…oh dear, with my help…I felt it only right to share a couple of things I remember I did…yep, guilty.
I love this post. The first time I met my father’s parents I was almost 18 and my mother’s mother always came to our house so I don’t have memories of sneaking off to do something like swing on the gate. Too cute.
My grandmother spoke Hindustani to my mother and aunt when she didn’t want us to understand and after they’d both died my mother would get frustrated with us when we didn’t understand it!
Oh my…who could your mother speak with then? Language…the special words we name things with, the greetings, diminutives, its rhythm. How difficult for your mother. And as I write this I remember that very special photo of you both looking right into each other’s eyes.