Dear Friends of the Good Old Days,

When I was a young boy, Mama and Daddy periodically went out on a Saturday night. It wasn't every week, but usually once or twice a month they drove to the nearest town about 10 miles away from our farm to eat supper, take in a movie or go dancing. That was all right with me, since a Saturday night out for Mama and Daddy meant a Saturday night in for us kids at Grandma's house.

In one regard, not a lot changed when we went to Grandma's. Like us, she had no running water, and electricity was still a newcomer to her homestead as well. Her house was not much different, with five small rooms to take care of her needs and those of her bachelor son Robert, who had lived with her since she was widowed when Mama was just a baby.

Yet there was a world of difference at Grandma's.

Before it got dark we were able to explore the old barn. If I was lucky I got to see the huge black snake that held down the mouse and rat population in the darkened corners of the edifice. After that we went to the brooder house where Grandma's new chicks were kept until they were old enough to be released with the rest of her egg-laying hordes. Grandma had a well out back, with a pump to bring up fresh water for drinking, cooking and cleaning up. I never missed my chance to be the one to man the pump, since we didn't have a well or a pump. It was quite a novelty to me to have water that close to the back door.

After dark, we listened to Grandma's radio, or played records on her old windup Victrola. While we listened, we played on her wooden dining table with some small glass figurines that were the closest thing to toys that Grandma kept around her place. I remember glass Pilgrims and Indians, various animals, small bottles and the like, all kept in a box beneath one of her cabinets. We were never allowed to play with them except on Saturday nights or holidays.

Bedtime was early at Grandma's. Sister Donna slept with Grandma, while my brother Dennis and I shared a single bed in Uncle Bob's room. Electrical wiring wasn't strung to half of the house, so Uncle Bob still relied on a kerosene lantern to light his small room. After making sure we were tucked in, Uncle Bob lit up his pipe, blew out the lamp and then smoked in the dark, the bowl glowing with each puff. With the intermingling scent of smoke and kerosene, I fell peacefully to sleep.

Today, whenever I hear the peep of chicks at a farmer's coop, listen to the lilt of an old-time Grand Ole Opry recording, or catch the earthy scent of pipe tobacco, I always think back to those peaceful evenings. Saturday nights at Grandma's were some of the best evenings in the Good Old Days.

'Til next time,