Here is Kate, the dachshund we had when we were kids. She was referred to in the last post. In front of the old stove was one of her favorite spots to be....that and right next to us if we were eating anything. She was a terrible beg! This was “her” rug. The picture is probably taken in the early 1980s, although it might have been earlier, judging from the old linoleum floor. I can’t remember what year Mom and Dad had carpet put in.
Those are my father’s boots there on the hearth...another familiar sight.
Thanks goes to my sister, Martha for contributing the picture.
3 comments:
Even though I live here right now, I still miss being home...
I can imagine Mom downstairs puttering about in the kitchen, or Dad playing his banjo in the "country room," and maybe I smell fresh baked cookies and hear the squeals of children playing... but it's all stored in my memories which sometimes sneak out my eyes and roll down my cheeks.
Yes. I can understand that. I’m sure I’d feel the same way.
The little door is opened on the old stove in that picture, meaning Mom or Dad is ramping up the heat. I can almost smell it. :)
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