jake5270's blog post - The sound

Rain is pattering down on my rooftop today. The sound has me remembering summer visits to my Grandparent's farm as a child.

My Grandparents were both born in the 1890's ('94 and '9 and married in the 1910's. My Grandfather built the farmhouse on the 100 acres he received as a dowry from my Grandmother's parents in the hills of Tennessee.

Visiting the farm was like going back in time: Electricity, but no running water or indoor 'facilities'. A wood burning stove for cooking. We carried water up from the artesian well for cooking, cleaning and bathing. Part of the daily chores were feeding the chickens and the mule, plus milking the cow.

The house itself was made of wood. It had a tin roof and a front porch that ran the length of the house. A swing was at one end, close by the front door. In the evenings, after supper, my grandparents would sit there and tell stories. Sometimes my Dad (who played in a bluegrass band) would play his guitar and we'd all sing.

At bedtime, you crawled into a feather bed, sinking down and getting snug. When it rained, the patter of the rain on the tin roof lulled you to sleep quickly.

The house and the farm are long gone now, as are my Grandparents and my parents. The rain today reminds me of those simple times of my childhood and makes me smile.

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