Childhood Memories of Grandma's House

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The familiar smell of soft cookies and homemade cooking are common thoughts when people think about their grandma's house. Great feasts and family gatherings play a part in everyone's grandmother's home. But when I really think about my grandma's house only one word comes to my mind: fun.

A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when you're a kid none of this really matters. All that really matters to you is to have as much fun as possible. My memories don't come just from this beautiful picture but from the little things making it.

The lasting smell neither good nor bad, of cattails filled my nose every time I visited my grandma. The long hearty stems of the cattails seemed impossible to break, but they were always plucked. We longed to pull the soft brown tips apart and watch the fluffy pieces float off into the air.

The sour smell of fallen apples also filled the air making a distinctive aroma. The twisted branches of the apple tree made it easy for climbing. My sister, my cousin and I would try and see who could get the highest. Sharp knots scraped across our skin leaving a faint burning sensation. But we didn't care; we were focused on our goal to get to the top, which usually ended in one of us falling to the ground then a harsh yelling at by one of the grown-ups.

Picking the ripe, red apples off of the tr...

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...s mystery closet stayed shut unless we asked our grandma for permission to see its possessions. Inside, there were endless amounts of toys for us to play with. I remember the small, rubber figurines of the smurfs that my grandma had kept from when her children were young. They were complete with almost all of the different smurfs, their mushroom houses and accessories.

As I look back on my childhood a great number of memories hide in my mind; sleepovers with friends, hanging upside down on the monkey bars, eating ice cream are but a few. The one memory that doesn't hide is of the postcard perfect house that I love and adore. From the hearty cattails and rose brown apple trees to the grilled cheese, this place reminds me of my childhood fun but also the love that my whole family shared. The red brick house and its surroundings will keep my memories forever.
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