Special Books

This is a special group of books that mean a lot to me. One book in particular transports me back to Swartz, Louisiana, when I was a little girl.

 The bookmobile would stop at our driveway. How exciting it was to climb its steps and check out books to read! I especially loved reading the biographies of famous people written for young people.

I was happy when I came across this old edition because 0f the many memories it stirred.

 I believe my love of books and reading was due to that early wondrous experience of bookmobile visits.

  

Houses Through the Years

The houses I'm about to show were places I lived with my parents.

I do not remember my very first home in Bastrop, Louisiana.

The first home I do remember was built by my dad in Swartz, Louisiana.

Carpentry work was one of my dad's many talents. But he decided to change jobs and became a dispatcher for Texas Gas Company.

Many happy days were spent riding bikes, playing basketball and softball, swinging, exploring on our six acres, attending school functions, and being with neighborhood friends.

 My dad was transferred to Eunice, Louisiana. It was the hardest move because  my brother and I loved our Swartz school and friends.

 At first we rented this L-shaped house and enjoyed the neighborhood.

But we were to leave Yukon Street and move to another rental across town.

This photo on North Eighth St. was taken years after we lived there. 

There were once trees along the sidewalk, and those trees were such fun to climb. And the sidewalks were ideal for roller skating. I made new friends in sixth grade and hated to leave them.

The next transfer brought us to Memphis, Tennessee, to a subdivision called Westwood. This time we did not rent. Our Parkrose house was home throughout my junior high and high school years.

After my graduation my dad was transferred to Covington, Tennessee. They would live in three different places in Covington while I was away at college in Jackson, TN, and later living in Dyersburg, TN. 

Fleming Drive

Highway 51

Highway 59

Their last home in Covington was located on Walters Street.

Painting and Tutoring

It has been a while since I carved out some time to paint. A visitor to my studio on Sunday is probably the reason I'm back at it. She liked many of my paintings. 

This painting of a barn I decided to redo. A happy childhood memory was the hayloft at my grandparents' farm in Louisiana. My brother and I would climb there to enjoy the view from up high. We also liked to climb trees for that feeling of being way up in the air. We had a lot of freedom in those days to explore. Miraculously we survived without mishaps. This barn painting makes me recall those wonderful experiences on the farm.

  

I picked up a small canvas at Goodwill for one dollar, painted over it, and tried this angel pose.

This one was quick and fun. I used cut up plastic pieces dipped in paint for the haystack and pitchforks and an owl that was cut from a magazine.

I emptied out the suitcase of old teaching materials. Now I'm using it as an end table for my coffee. This week I've been in teacher mode to help Lucas with a few of his third grade lessons.

Moods

You will be able to tell from these art journal pages what sort of mood I was in for part of the day.

On Instagram I shared two photos that hold dear memories.

Letters, numbers, library books...the stuff of school memories

One of my fondest recollections was selecting books from the bookmobile. It would stop at our driveway and was such a treat to climb aboard, check out a stack of books, and experience the joy of reading about other people.

More school memories...

my 1962 Citizenship Award in eighth grade

my mom's P. T. A. Merit Award from 1959

Speaking of mom, she came to my rescue in fifth grade(and of course, many other times). Our class had a unit of study about colonial times. Making samplers was the project assigned to the girls. I volunteered, not knowing anything about making one. She drew this colonial scene and taught me the basic embroidery stitches. This was my first piece of embroidery...a special memory...a bit of childhood saved in an old wood frame. It's personal treasures like these that make our homes unique.

Childhood is fleeting

I was very fortunate because I didn't have any cares or worries during childhood. My early life was simple and carefree. My parents made sure we were fed, clothed, and loved. My older brother and I shared many adventures on a six acre site. The neighborhood provided playmates and security. 

Grandson Nicolas had a birthday celebration on Sunday. On Monday he officially became eleven years old. My, how fast those eleven years passed!

His young world is so different from the one I experienced. He will have challenges I never had to face. 

Hopefully his artistic ability will not fade. I chose art supplies as part of his birthday gift.

I was in the art room today, but creative juices did not flow. One art journal page received some paint and and a couple of cutout images for a collage. Left it in an unfinished state. We'll see what tomorrow brings.  

Speaking of Barns

Visits to my grandparents held special childhood memories. And barns played a part in those memories. 

My dad helped build this simple house for my grandparents in Louisiana.

He also made those Adirondack chairs on the small porch. The house had a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and two bedrooms. In the left side of the picture you can see the barn in the background. My brother and I would climb up to the hayloft and look out. 

This photo shows the barn and shed.

My grandparents in Indiana had a more stately home.

The information below was in a research paper my cousin wrote about the life of Clara Crum, my dad's mother. This is an excerpt from the paper about the farm, barn, and outbuildings.

These photos were taken in 1974.

This group of photos was taken in 1976.

This storage shed was close to the main house.

I remember entering that door on the right and seeing stacks of old books. I was fascinated by them and many other things that were on this farm.

Sadly these loved ones as well as these dear home places are gone. One clear thing I've learned about life...it is always changing.