Years ago – and I do mean years ago, back when I was a child, we visited Foosland, Illinois on a regular basis. My grandparents, Hattie and Carey, had a huge old house with a barn, an outhouse, a pump in the kitchen and a marvelous garden. Everything grew in that garden from corn to tomatoes to grapes and cherries. Not to be outdone, the flowers took up the front part of the garden.
Grandma was always canning something from July till September. Pickles, peaches, applesauce, cherry pie filling, tomatoes – everything was canned. They ate from their storehouse all winter long.
I love visiting Foose, as we called it. You could walk anywhere because it is so small. This used to be the grocery store/post office. They had a pop machine outside – the kind that looked like a chest freezer and they had grape pop. I loved that pop machine.
We’d walk down to get bread and candy – grab a pop and walk back. I’d sit on Grandma’s porch swing and listen to the pigeons coo in the woods across from the house. It was idyllic.
Sadly the house burned down, many years after both grandparents died. I think someone burned it down because they wanted the land – at least I remember hearing that rumor. The five boys finally sold the land and it was absorbed into the next door neighbor’s farm.
I’ll always miss it – sitting on the porch, listening to the pigeons.