My Favorite Childhood Vacation
My favorite childhood vacation was hands down Cleo Russell’s home. She was my grandmother, not by blood or marriage but because she took us in. Us being my mother and I. She and her husband Joe were amazing to us. They lived in Bryant Arkansas on 5 acres of land. Cleo and Joe had two outside Labradors, Lucky and Ginger, and two indoor poodles, Nicki and Bear. I loved those animals and how they remembered me every time I would come to visit after being away. Mom would drive us up to Arkansas to visit from Memphis Tennessee about once per month and more frequently when school was out during the summer. On Friday afternoons as soon as school was out I would jump for joy when I saw luggage in the trunk of our car. This indicated that we were going to visit Cleo and Joe.
Once at my grandparents house, I would get outside to play with the dogs. I was so little that the dogs would be up to my head when they stood on two feet. Joe would come out and give me bones to throw out at the dogs. Lucky and Ginger would jump high into the air to grab the food. There was also a basketball goal where I would work on my jump shot. In the backyard was a barn with a few old hens. One of them still laid eggs that Joe would go out and get in the morning. The rest of the yard was landscaped to include flower beds enclosed in brick squares and bird baths that had been taken over by the cats. The one cat I remember was white and always had the most sunburned ears.
Across the way from Cleo lived her daughter Marion. We would sometimes walk over there because she had an in ground pool. The way Joe taught me to swim is not the way I would teach my daughter. Although it makes me laugh when I think about it. When he lead me to the deep in by hand he would then let go while yelling at me to swim. That approach worked but not right away unfortunately.
Another staple of visiting Cleo was the biscuits she would cook every morning. My goodness those were still the best biscuits I have ever tasted. Eating breakfast there was the only time my mom allowed me to eat how I wanted. Cleo knew I loved those delicious biscuits and would tell my mom to make sure they were buttered. I can still smell them in my head.
My interest in guitar began at their house too. Joe had an electric and acoustic guitar. He would take them out and strum a bit every time I visited, and would let me play with them even though I was very young. Mom and I would typically visit on a weekend, Friday night and come home Sunday morning. On Saturdays Joe would drive us to town to sight see. On Sundays we rested and just played around the house. When it was time to leave Joe would stick $100 bill in my pocket and tell me not to mention it to mom until we got in the car. I miss Cleo and Joe dearly. They were good people.
