Photo: Richmond Free Press
As I was sitting here reading the Richmond Free Press, it gave me an idea for my blog. I had felt the urge to write today but wasn’t sure what to share. There are so many cherished holiday memories from growing up in the country, and I mean the real country. No stoplights in my little town until after I graduated from college.
The holidays were always a big deal in my house with the wood burning heater and stove, the outdoor toilet and the well where we got our water. Before we moved to this house with electricity, I recall having a small pine tree in my room with a battery and a flashlight bulb taped on top so it lit up. That’s the only holiday memory I have from that particular house. Once we moved up the hill to the house with electricity, our Christmas got so much better. We could always count on getting a red wagon so we could haul firewood from the woodpile, and doll babies, and of course the year we got our bikes was a major surprise. Another interesting part of the holidays was the fact that the only time we got apples and oranges were Christmas, along with nuts and the hard Christmas candy. Each of us got a separate brown bag with our goodies in it. I really don’t recall any presents being wrapped under the tree. I believe everything was just kinda there and mom told us who got what. Of course, we were told that Santa Claus bought it all.