Arizona summer evenings are long and wonderful, and really last from April till the end of October. Once the sun goes down the air cools off, and everything comes alive. Whoever and whatever has been hiding in the shade now comes out to enjoy the night hours, including the humans. This was the best time for kids to be outside, and my cousins and I looked forward to summer evenings at grandma's house.
We would play Hide and Seek and Tag, and talk about playing Kick the Can, although I don't think we ever did. Mom and her sisters often talked about playing that game when they were little, but once someone got cut on the edge of a can, so they discouraged us from playing.
We would run and hide behind trees and bushes, sometimes even crossing the street to hide in the neighbor's yard. Back in those days there wasn't much traffic out in the evenings. A favorite hiding place was behind grandma’s black and white Metropolitan car. It was cute and little, and we all called it the Doodle Bug. But no matter how much fun it was being outside, the best part of grandma's house was inside.
I remember her front room. There was a big square hole in the east wall, behind which sat the evaporative cooler. In the summer that old thing would run for all it was worth, making a huge racket and spitting cold water at you if you stood in front of it.
Grandma’s bedroom opened off the front room. It was small, just big enough to hold her bed and perhaps a dresser at one end. She had sheer white curtains with ruffled bottoms that tied at the sides of her front windows, and above them was a high shelf that ran the length of the room. On it were the treasures, nick knacks and collectibles that grandma kept there out of grand children's reach. There were heirlooms from Sweden, flowers in glass vases, and a little black and white glass mama skunk and babies that really used to fascinate me.
Grandma's bedroom led into a tiny bathroom, which opened onto an even smaller back bedroom. It was the guest room, I suppose, with one small twin bed. We slept on that bed when we spent the night at grandmas. She kept a TV in that room, on a desk, which is where she watched Jack LeLane when she did her exercises, and where we watched bubbles float up in the air on Saturday nights as we listened to the Lawrence Welk Show.
Behind this small room was an added on extra room. I wonder what it was for? I suppose it was meant to be an office or another bedroom, but it wasn't finished. It had a cement floor, and I remember the filing cabinet in one corner where grandma kept a supply of Wrigley's Sprearment Gum. Before Grandpa died he would always send someone to get gum for all the grandkids. After Grandpa passed away dad helped grandma add a small bathroom to the back of the extra room. For awhile grandma rented that space to a young woman so she wouldn't have to live alone.
The most important room in the house was next to extra bedroom, behind the front room. It was the kitchen! Grandma Johnson was the best cook in the whole world, and her kitchen was the center of the house. I can still remember waking up in the little bedroom after spending the night with my cousins, smelling grandma’s homemade maple syrup and Swedish pancakes cooking on the old white enamel stove.
In winter grandma would make hot cocoa with marshmallows. She served it in heavy ceramic cups, but once in awhile she let us drink out of her glass, ruby red tea cups, and then what a treat! Grandma used to buy day old donuts for us to dunk in the cocoa, and usually there were pepprakakor and spritz cookies, as well.
In spring and summer grandma made the most delicious lemon merange pies, I can still see the little brown drops of syrup sprinkled across the top of the meringue, and banana creme pie. On top of the extra refrigerator on the back porch grandma kept a brown paper bag with bananas ripening in it. They were just perfect when their skin turned a deep golden color and little brown dots started to appear.
We grandkids always sat around the kitchen table to eat our treats, while the adults sat in the front room, visiting. What happy sounds there were at grandma's house. Laughing, story telling, the clink of cups on saucers and forks scraping the last bit of goodness off our plates, unless no one was watching and we could lick every bit off with our tongue. What happy memories I have of grandma's house!
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