Memories of Loui-vulle

...at least that's how Louisville (KY) is pronounced.

The house we lived in was a little starter home. It was long and narrow. The 'hallway' was along one long-side of the house. There were no backyard neighbors. You had neighbors on either side. The house lay between two streets. One at one end of the house, the other at the other end of the house. The back half of the house you walked downhill to the street. I remember this clearly because one year the Ohio River flooded and the street at the back end of the house was the one that flooded.

The front room was heated with a pot-bellied stove. I'm the one who drew with crayons on it. It was so pretty to watch them melt, bubble and turn black. The front room is where our bunk bed was. Bob slept on the top, I slept on the bottom. Bob got hold of a tube of toothpaste (back then it was a metal tube-plastic hadn't been invented yet) and drew on the ceiling with it.

The next room was Mom & Dad's bedroom. There were no doors between the rooms. The next room was the kitchen. I remember watching Mom use a washtub and fill it with water to bathe us kids. One time while bathing, mom stopped to answer the back door. While she was distracted I grabbed the bar of soap (Ivory) that was floating and took a bite-as much as I could. When Mom came back, she was upset at what I had done.

That kitchen held a couple other memories for me. One was the sugar bowl. Once I learned where it was and that I could climb up to it, my sweet tooth was soon a happy camper! I'm sorry to admit that Mom caught me with a mouthful of sugar one day. She asked if I got into the sugar (as if she couldn't see sugar grains all over the outside of my mouth) and of course I was saying no (without opening my mouth). The other memory I have was late (for a four-year-old) at night walking into the kitchen because that's where mom was. Dad had just finished his shower and came walking into the kitchen, quite in his birthday suit. I saw something dangling between his legs. Of course I was shocked, he was laughing, Mom was mortified and told me to get back to bed.

Another memory of a kitchen, I don't recall if it was thee in Louisville, Buellton, Seal Beach or Santa Barbara, but when ever I got caught lying, Mom would take me to the kitchen and hold my hand over the flame on the top of the range (gas range). All this caused in me was a fear that Mom might hurt me on the top of the stove-regardless of her warning me that God hated liars. I wouldn't make myself change that ugly habit until I was closer to 10 years old. What hurt the most was I was telling her something that had happened at school regarding Bob. She looked at me and said, "I can't believe a word you say. You lie like a rug." Well! That was it! I had just told her the truth, I hadn't lied for a very long time (at least months) and now this! It was true-I had been pretty bad at not telling the truth like I ought to. I vowed to myself that day that she would NEVER be able to repeat that statement to be again and have it be true.

Dad went hunting one day, he did it a lot, but this time he had two of his buddies and the Reverend with him. Later mom said she thinks the reason dad wanted the Reverend with them was because he was planning on creating a scenario where he wanted his buddies to have an eye witness vindicating their innocence. Long story short, Dad shot at a boulder, knowing full well it would ricochet back at him. It hit him in his liver. They took out his spleen, more than half his liver and a good length of his intestines. Sure had some fancy scarring from all of that!

Of course, Grandma and Grandpa Nelson came to visit. While Mom went to visit and stay with dad in the hospital, they'd be home with us. And then they'd get a turn to go to the hospital and Mom would be home.

One time Bob and I got to go to the store with Grandpa. You either walked or rode the bus to get anywhere. We walked to a local Mom & Pop grocery store. I don't have a clue what else Grandpa bought, but I do remember getting to pick out a green yo-yo. Bob got a yellow one. What fun that was to have a new toy! You have to understand, we didn't have a toy box and there was only one or two toys per child-so this was HUGE!!!

When Dad's hunting accident first happened Mom must have warned us that it was very serious and it was possible that Dad might die. I asked Grandpa if Dad died, if he could be our daddy. Silly little girl.

Just wanting to make sure this was documented.


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