Oh, what I wouldn’t give to hear Mother’s screen door slam again. To sit in our creaky porch swing, sipping sweet tea, smelling the freshly mown grass, the sunlight filtering through the trees, a gentle breeze blowing, a kitten or two scampering at my feet and the red winged blackbirds singing their songs, oh what I wouldn’t give.
There is nothing like thoughts of your childhood on a beautiful spring day. And even though I’m lucky enough to live in the quasi country, with a pretty yard, looking out at the horses in the pasture, there is absolutely . positively . nothing . like . your . childhood . home.
Even if it only lives on in your memory….