A view of my grandparents farm on the Greenbrier River near Hinton, West Virginia. Permit me to reminisce but I can only skim the surface, for it would take a book otherwise. My grandfather, stern, honorable and a white collar worker fled to this farm every Friday. He could fly a plane, was serious about photography, with a full darkroom, a dead aim with any firearm, a master woodworker, once again with a full shop, took no mercy while playing us kids in croquet but took us on frequent hay and tractor rides, had an occasional shot of whiskey and a cigar, was passionate about playing bridge and good at it I understand with one weakness, he rarely could beat my grandmother. He was always up at the crack of dawn.
Granny, a phenomenal cook, pies, turkeys, gravy........I remember her firing up the kitchen stove with wood to make us,grandchildren, pancakes. She could at times chain smoke Pall Mall cigarettes, lighting one from the other, without batting an eye. Ruthless at bridge she took no prisoners I'm told, least of all my grand-dad. Up always late at night, she kept a totally opposite schedule than my grandfather, that's probably why they slept at opposite ends of the house. While in their last years my brother and I were quizzing my grandmother on how the two of them had met. It was a church function and Grandpap, as we called him, had ridden his horse to the function and on another occasion he had walked the distance just to see her. He really liked her she said....right at that moment Grandpap came up on the porch on which we were sitting. Asked if this was all true, he replied "ahh hell" I sensed an inward blush.
Other memories...playing hide and seek in the stands of corn...inner tubing down the Greenbrier...rope swinging into the river, horse back riding... the line up of mothers and aunts snapping green beans on the porch.....hand made peach ice cream and more, ....too much more to write.
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