When Aunt Frances’ father became seriously ill, she and Uncle George purchased a house on Union Street near the Kernen Poplar Level Grocery Store.
The house stood on a hill with the rear of the building facing the downhill, west length of Horseshoe Bend. One favorite summer pastime when visiting there was to roll down that back slope. Rolling was a happy sport until an adult noticed the activity and a voice admonished, “Get up off that dirty ground!”
Winter entertainment was an entirely different matter with inside hours replacing summer frolics. Aunt Frances’ mother, Aunt Missie, with her neighborhood lady friends, sat up in the attic around a large quilt frame. If I sat quietly in the company of my doll, Susan, I was permitted to watch their stitching hours and listen to their recipe gossips.
I admired these women who worked with their hands to make a quilt for future generations to share.I did not know I was admiring them. I only knew that these women were kind, happy, and careful. I wanted to be like them. They were attic role models and I was so very privileged to have them brighten my childhood learnings.