If you follow the blog, you know that I love history and one of my favorite pastimes is listening to my grandparents’ stories.  I could listen for hours upon end about how life was growing up in the country and learning about my ancestors and putting a personality to the old, scratched photographs I have of them.  I told my granddad that I was going to start sharing his stories on a ‘blog’ and he just gave me a blank expression and said, “Hmm. It must be some of that new technology.”  I smiled to myself because if you knew him, you’d know he’s not one for change or complex technology- and definitely not afraid to tell you about it.  :)  But he agreed and on one of the warmer days we had this winter, we sat out on my front porch and I listened to some stories.  I grew up in an old farm house in the little town of Wetipquin.  He grew up three miles down the road.  This was home to both of us and was a perfect place to talk and for him to reminisce.      

I pulled up an old rocking chair for him- which was actually his mother’s- and I sat on the old, uneven porch.  With my notebook in hand he began telling me about this chair.  “No one visits like they used to anymore.  Back when I was growing up- everyone had a rocking chair in their house.”  He explained how people could only communicate by visiting and that’s usually what occurred every weekend.  “People just visited,” he said as he rocked back and looked out into the field.  It took a minute for that to sink in but then it hit me. With the convenience of the Internet, smart phones and Facebook we have people at our finger tips.  I still make time to visit with my friends but rarely will you find me without my phone.  I love the ability to reconnect and to keep in touch with friends and family around the world but it makes me wonder if we lose something without the human interaction.  “Visiting forced you to slow down and to enjoy yourself,” he said.  “We weren’t preoccupied and had an excuse to relax and catch up.”  He told me about the hand-carved chair he was sitting in and how it was given to his mother.  I got on my soap box about how amazing it is to have the world literally at your fingertips, but trying to convince this man who was born in 1927 that an iPhone is valuable is like telling him pigs can fly.  He wasn’t buying it, but I tried. :)  We talked some more and then went in for the day.  I told him how I want to know everything- from holidays on the farm, childhood toys, going to school in a one room schoolhouse, living through The Depression, his time in Europe for the Second World War and even about the country store his family owned.  He said he’d love to tell me all about his life and the past.  I’ll just have to come and visit. ;)    

   This old rocker and worn out floorboards have heard their share of stories and memories over the course of 150 years- and there are many more to come. :)  I can’t wait to share them all with you!