The Reindeer Keeper

It was a given that the clothesline-running from the pumphouse situated not far from the back porch of my grandparents' farmhouse to out and over the flat rocks strung underneath a pipe taking the water to the barn-was most always loaded down with laundry when the season allowed. Of course there were no automatic washers and dryers back then and with such a large family there was always laundry. It probably never was caught up. How could it have been with six girls and barn work to be done along with everything else in-between? Laundry waving in the breeze provided great fun. My cousins and I could run back and forth underneath the sheets and pants and towels and house dresses and never get tired. If the sheets were hanging low enough they provided the perfect cover for hide 'n seek or from cars passing by or from adults wondering what we were doing. When there was no laundry hanging on the line the pipe leading to the barn offered us a daring opportunity. Even in the heat

The kitchen in my grandparents' farmhouse was the focal point of their home. The walls were covered in wainscoting half way up. Cupboards were white enamel. The wood stove was the centerpiece and next to it sat a rocking chair and a woodbox. When more wood was needed you'd go out a door leading to the woodshed, load up all the wood you could carry and bring it back inside. You'd keep doing this until the woodbox was full. We loved going into that woodshed. It's where Grampie used his ax to split the wood and it's where my cousins and I would sometimes put on great shows for all the adults to attend and most certainly enjoy! Near the woodstove sat an oak kitchen table with six chairs. Behind the table was a hutch full of dishes and bowls. I think the top half had glass doors so everything was in plain sight. The bottom half was drawers for linens and such. Behind the wood stove was another door. Open it and you found the back stairway. My mother and aunts would t

Back when there were no strip malls or massive shopping conglomerates spreading over acres and filled with a zillion stores-back when small villages and cities had vibrant downtowns there was usually a place where people gathered-sort of like a Starbucks minus the brand coffee with funny-named varieties and customers interacting with their laptops. Our hometown was no different. We had such a place in our downtown. It was called the Busy Corner-a just reward after a hard day of playing or the place to include when out shopping the many stores offering everything from a new suit to hardware-a new bike to jewelry- furniture and everything else in between. When you walked into the Busy Corner with its tile floor and ceiling fans-which now make me think of a Humphrey Bogart movie sort of plot-you were greeted by stacks and rows of newspapers and magazines-piles of them. Lining one wall were choice cigars-so many so that the blend of the printed material and rolled smokes made for a mos

For me and my cousin, summer meant camping out in the back field behind our uncle's house who was as much of a kid as we were. I'm not sure but I think it was his tent that we used. I do remember he was the adult who helped us put the tent up-from pounding the stakes into the ground with a sledge hammer to making sure it was secure. It had to be secure. You never knew what creatures (or uncle) might be lurking in the night! Were those dark, spooky shadows really tree limbs in the moonlight? Were those moans really the wind or some creature climbing out of the swampy creek not too far away? We usually had my brother's dog Smokey or that uncle's dog Bess with us but they seemed to sleep through anything. They showed more signs of life when food was around. The tent was a real heavy canvas-an olive green shade with flaps that we tied in the front when we'd finally settle down inside our sleeping bags. When we woke up the sun beating in made it so unbearable that we