Thursday, January 19, 2012

Going To Town


As my Grandma's grandparents died on a wagon train coming from Kentucky, she never knew them. Her daddy's mother died giving birth to him and then his father died two weeks later. Her father was raised sort of hit or miss by various relatives until he met Grandma's mother. Grandma was raised on a dairy farm around the Shady Grove area. She always said her father loved his family.  My Grandpa grew up in Limestone but lived in Clarksville when he and Grandma met.

Grandma said they would use a team of horses and a wagon to go visit Grandpa's people in Limestone. They had to stop overnight along the way. I have forgotten how far Limestone is from Clarksville but I do know it is two miles straight down into Limestone Valley. It is pretty once you get there.

Thinking of traveling in a team and wagon brought to mind how it was that people from the community would come into town on Saturdays and gather behind the Fair Store. Although I never saw a horse around the Fair Store, it was always a part of my childhood memories. It was where Grandma always bought her dresses. Lavender was her favorite color.

I sent my brother to the Fair Store to buy cornbread mix for supper one afternoon. Someone had said they had it for just ten cents a package. He rode his bike over there but when he got there was told the Fair Store was a dry goods store. When he got back, I argued that Aunt Louise said they had cornbread mix for only ten cents and I tried to make him go back so he could argue for me. He would not go. He was pretty put out with me when we realized it was Fairway Market that had the mix and not the Fair Store.

Hubby and I were married five months before we had our first argument. I remember exactly what it was about but as it was so petty, I will not tell you.


This picture was taken shortly before hubby left for basic training. We were very young. Because of the naugahyde sofa and fiberglass curtains, it is obvious this is early seventies. I was proud of our little four room cement block house.

We have argued on occasion. One time in particular, I remember trying to get my point across on some matter when hubby said, "You cannot be right every time."

Me, not right? What a novel idea.

6 comments:

  1. You were so cute!
    My grandfather's family came to Arkansas in a wagon train from N.C. in 1850's.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. How interesting. You know, we are all connected in some way yet so diverse in others.

      Delete
  2. Loved this post and especially the picture. Enjoy the weekend.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Loved reading this! Like I said, I do enjoy your stories! You have a lot of interesting history to share!

    Now, that young married picture--yep, I can relate! We married in 1969 and my hubby went to basic training in 1970, less than a year later. I had long dark brown straight hair, as you did! Oh, for the days!!!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. I love this post! Your family is so blessed to have these precious recorded notes!!! XO, Aimee

    ReplyDelete
  5. I am never wrong either....at least in my mind!!!

    ReplyDelete