Your Stories Share your story with other readers. It takes a village to raise a child. I believe that it is true.
Grandparents are a part of that idea.
My best memories of my childhood are of spending summers on my grandparent's farm in Indiana. Hot days were spent running through the cornfields, and eating tomatoes right off the vine. On wash day, which was always Monday, I helped my Grandma hang clothes on the line outside to dry in the breeze. By the way I remember her ringer washer before she got an automatic one. I watched chickens hunting and pecking and scratching for whatever in the yard.