Chats on the Farmhouse Porch 2014: #11

QUESTIONS
What is your favorite room of your house or apartment?

I don't really have a favorite room in this house. The master bathroom is the one getting the most use these days, but it is certainly not my favorite room!


What's your favorite topping for pancakes or waffles?

Mrs. Butterworth's syrup and butter are my favorite pancake toppings.


Do you like dried fruit?

I like raisins, but I don't think that I've ever had other dried fruit. David has and he has horror stories about it.


Please finish this statement. "As soon as we have good spring weather, I'm going to_______."

As soon as we have good spring weather, I'm going to go out and take lots of flower pictures. The bluebonnets are finally here and there have been very few days where both weather and time were working together so that I could do a photo shoot.


Tell me a memory from your childhood.

I shared one memory on this blog Saturday. You can find it here: Book of Me: First Day of School.

Grandma (left) and Aunt Mae.

Another memory that I have from my childhood happened while I was spending some time with my great-aunt, Mae P. Worley. She was my maternal grandma's older sister. She lived in a little mill village in Calhoun Falls, South Carolina. She had lived in her house for a long time and people knew her to be a kind woman. She was beautiful inside and out and would help anybody that needed her help.

One day while she and I were in her kitchen, there was a knock at her back door. She went to answer it and there was a man, a very upset man. This man was haunted by horrific memories of the death of his wife. He was crying. I was just a little girl at that point and I don't believe that I had ever seen a man cry. I didn't quite know how to handle that. He sat on Aunt Mae's step crying over and over that he couldn't get to her. I wondered who "her" was.

Aunt Mae tried to comfort him. She explained to me later what had happened that was causing him to be so upset. See, there had been a fire and he was able to get out of the house somehow. He thought his wife was right there with him. She wasn't. He turned and saw that she was still inside the house, on the other side of the flames, calling out to him. He wasn't able to get to her to save her. He watched her burn to death trapped inside their house.

This awful fire had happened many years before he sat there on Aunt Mae's back step, maybe even before I was born. To him, it was as if it had just happened. He never recovered.