Growing Up Rich


My childhood home was just four rooms heated by a big black stove in the kitchen.  We had no phone, no car, and a pull chain toilet in the basement.  Money was tight and there had to be enough left each month to pay the rent.

I spent my days in youthful endeavors.  Playing baseball in the field where the high school now stands.  My dad, a laborer, walked to work every day regardless of weather.  I cannot remember him ever staying home.  My mom typed envelopes evenings for the local fuel oil company to earn extra money.

At suppertime, my mom would stand on the back steps and ring a cow bell, calling me home.  Every kid in the neighborhood knew what the bell meant.  Responding was not an option.  I would quickly ride my bike home, wash my hands, and join the family at the table.  The food…

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About oldmainer

I am a retired manager living in Southern Maine and a would be writer of poetry, narratives, short stories, and random opinions, and that's how Oldmainer was born. Recently, I decided to try an experiment. I added photography to the mix, using only a cheap cell phone with a limited camera and the editing software that came with it, and added the blog site Inklings at to showcase the results. So, feel free to use whatever you find interesting or worthy, but please honor the terms of my copyright when and if you do. They may not be much, but they are still a piece of me. I appreciate your checking me out and hope that you find something that will encourage a return visit. Thanks for stopping by.
This entry was posted in Aging, Children, Life, Memories, Random Thoughts and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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