Sunday, February 22, 2009
It's Not Funny, but It Is!
While Jerri was here last Wednesday waiting for time to pick our Beans up from Pre-school, we were talking about times past, when we were growing up, and how there was never much money. I believe what started that branch of the conversation was how the door on the toy cupboard wouldn't quite close because of all the toys, and bits and pieces of toys, that were stuffed into it, and how lucky our kids were to have all of those toys.
The conversation drifted along, one subject leading to another as conversations tend to do, and then a memory popped into my head of the old hoopty my momma used to drive when I was about 10 years old, or thereabouts.
Back then, we lived about a mile out from a little, tiny, town here in Arkansas that's only about a 35 minute drive from where I live now. My sister's and I went to church in that little town almost every Sunday morning, and evening, and Wednesday evening and most of the time we walked that mile, plus several more yards, to get there. After dark though, Mom would come to pick us up because our imaginations could conjure up all kinds of evil critters and axe murderers along that country lane if she didn't.
Anyway, the memory was of the times we, and some of our friends, would be sitting on the church steps, in the quiet dark of the evening, waiting for our rides. Then, we'd hear this far-off, but very distinctive, roar of tail pipes as a car was cranked up and someone would inevitably say,
"Here comes your Momma."
We knew it was time to start saying goodbye to our friends then cause Momma was on her way. We knew when she got to the end of the lane to turn on another road that lead into town, and we could tell when she slowed down at the end of each street once she got inside the city limits. We'd always be lined up, waiting to get in as soon as she pulled up in front of the church.
We were so lucky to even have a family car those days; I can remember even earlier when we didn't and Momma would have to walk that mile, and more, before daylight, in every sort of weather, to catch a ride with a friend to get to work. So, it didn't bother us one hoot that we had one of the loudest cars in the county; it ran, and we had a ride.