In My Place

In My Place

Growing up in a family of nine in a small house, there was not a lot of space to call your own. I am the oldest of seven children that grew up on a small farm, in a small town, in a small house, with an even smaller budget. Having a large family puts limits on where we could go as a family and how much my parents could spend, but every year we would make a vacation in summer to my grandparent's house on the Chesapeake Bay.

Every family has that place that they can go that makes them come together, and the house in Sherwood, Maryland in no different. My father was a farmer throughout my entire childhood, and summer was the hardest time for him. Every year though he would take a week off in late July and we would all go to grandmothers. No one lived in the handed down house year round of my mother's mother, but when the temperature started to rise, it seemed to come to life. The hour drive was manageable for my parents to get the kids together for a short drive, and best of all it did not cost a thing. The house lies in a small town that does not even have a post office, and the lane that goes up to it, is as long as the main road. Once the turn is made to go up the driveway, the magic would seem to take control. The sites, the sounds, and smells would come over you whisking me away from the inconvienences of home. The big white house with a green roof and shutters sitting in a private cove would enlighten anyone to paint a picture. The sound of the water lapping up against the dock and shore gives you the feeling of a crowd cheering you on. The smell of the salty air combined with the mint my grandmother had planted around the house is just the aroma a nose breathes for.

When you're a child it is not enough to just look around though, you need something to do, some form of recreation, and there was plenty to consume the hours of day. When parents can teach you something that you can use forever, let alone something that not everyone get to learn,