The Old Home Place
From Nevilpedia
The Old Home Place
by Cheryl Nevil Poland
As I stand here and gaze at the old home place, I try to visualize the nostalgic memories of my childhood. My eyes turn to the old pear tree which stands erect and beautiful It is over 100 years old and still bears enough fruit for many families.
Sounds of the past penetrate my mind. I am oblivious to the present. I feel the warm sun and smell the fragrances of my grandmother's flower garden.
My grandmother, Mamanee, always made snuff for my sister and me, essence of tabaccos, cocoa and sugar. We would sit, dip, spit, and pretend to be our ficticious names, Mrs Perkins and Mrs Simmons.
Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Simmons would have a great time. They would wear high-heels, floppy hats and long dresses. They ate small biscuits, drank tea and actually ate their mudpies.
Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Simmons would soon tire and become the formidable Beverly and Cheryl. Their activities were unquestionably original. We would dress all the many animals in diapers. Mostly the kittens and chickens were prone for this abuse. The animals actually followed us through the fields as we played in our original, magical world. We would never take time to remove their clothing. Therefore the animals left their diapers all over the cotton field.
After being horrendously terrified by the howling of the wolves and the setting of the sun, we scurried to the security of Mamanee and the farm house.
Mamanee met us at the door and reminded us of our baths. These baths were concocted by an outdoors bathtub warmed by the sun and filled with airomatic bath beeds which we thoroughly enjoyed. This bath and a scrumptious evening meal would induce sleep.
We were even a trifle excited about going to bed because of the scented, clean, crisp sheets and comfortable matress. We felt like queens. As we were falling asleep, we remembered our parents were coming for the weekend and we were leaving Sunday. That meant just one more day with Mamanee this summer. It would be Christmas before we would be returning to the farm for any length of time.
As I awakened the next morning I could hear Mamanee calling us to breakfast. Our parents had already arrived. Dad had the day planned. If you knew my Dad, you would know it would be a real doozy.
First we were going hunting snipes. Have you ever been snipe hunting? Neither had I. What a rude awakening.
First, he told us to get tow sacks to catch the snipes in. He had informed us they were beautiful little birds. We were going to catch the largest and the most beautiful snipes in the woods. Gullible weren't we. It was dark in the woods, tall trees, underbrush and tramatic sounds that terrified us. You see, Dad had told us to stay together and be real quiet and wait for him to rush all the snipes in our direction (which incidently he was hiding and laughing and no snipes came our way.) We waited with tow sacks in our hands whispering "Daddy" but no answer came. We were really afraid by this time and didn't care if we caught a snipe or not. Too frightened to move we huddled together and hoped Dad would appear. After what seemed like hours, Dad came from behind the bush and laughingly returned us home. You see there are no snipes.
Now it was time for a picnic at the pool. We were to learn to fish for crawdad. Wouldn't you know I would be the first to catch one. My screams could be heard for miles, even overshadowing my Dad's roaring laughter. Then we settled down to crawdad fish and caught quite a few.
After our picnic lunch (not crawdads), we paddled around the pool in an old galvanized tub. It was hilarious.
It had been a great day but all good things come to an abrupt end and was time to return home. We would be returning Christmas.
Time passed fast and we are approaching the old home place for the largest celebration of the year. Mamanee greeted us at the door, her eyes twinkling, the house scented with spicy aromas of pies, cakes, turkys, hams, and the best dressing this side of heaven. Everyone brought their fested dishes. It is wonderful. Love is everywhere. The house was decorated and the tree was trimmed with Mamanee's handmade ornaments. Packages were everywhere, the old home place was electrified with excitement.
In one evening you would never believe the love and joy pressed into every present. We received every present we dreamed of; dolls, clothes, beautiful boots, gowns, robes and lots of hugs and kisses.
I remember Dad bringing his movie camera and trying to capture each vivid memory. Oh how he did! To this day we relive those joyous occations.
My eyes fill with tear of happiness as I remember my childhood. I am still standing, staring at the old pear tree. There is so much history to the old home place. It belonged to Mamanee's grandparents and has survived the Civil War, tornados, droughts, floods, all types of severe weather. It still is the most wonderful place in the world to me. I see my children playing under the pear tree and I realize this is the sixth generation to enjoy growing up around the old home place.
