The Robin’s Return filled the farmhouse on summer afternoons and early winter evenings.  Like a music-box within the old piano, it came from my sister’s fingers and not from one of those perforated sheets that would be wound into the player piano to be presented mechanically.   (please click to listen softly while you read)

Music was not  just achievement, but everyday fun. The Tennessee Waltz and Beautiful Brown Eyes were part of the sheet music rotation and this was my inheritance — growing up with music from before my time.  Although I would enjoy the music of the 1950s on the radio when I was waiting at the mailbox on a summer’s day, when I was at the piano I was playing the sheet music of World War II and the 1940s (and every song book ever published by Back to the Bible from Lincoln, Nebraska).

The crops in the mid ’50s were not nearly as good as the crops in the late ’40s and early ’50s had been,  so my next-sister-up had more opportunity to buy lots of sheet music, skirts, and blouses.   Alice Blue Gown is also included in the stack of music that is now in my care.

Whether the crop was good or not, it was understood that both time and money could only be spent once so each was spent deliberately.  Because of that, such expenditures were seldom followed by second thoughts. New things were enjoyed — deeply and without regret.

New things such as a 35 mm slide camera, projector and a real stand-up screen for showing slides on,  and new 12″ x 12″ floor tiles which came on the market in those parts along about 1958. The kitchen floor was first covered with tile instead of linoleum the same year I got my first pair of 2″ heels, and wore them with self-conscious flourish.

The back door opened into the house four steps down from the kitchen and as my Dad came from the field one late afternoon, the sinking sun shining from the southwest through the kitchen windows revealed, just at eye level, a sea of mini-craters left behind by my brand new heels on the brand new floor.  We had had no idea how soft the tile was, and no one thought such a thing would happen.  The cause and effect was pointed out to me when I came to the kitchen to help with supper, and after that, the heels were hand-carried if they and I had to go through the kitchen. Those little craters, perfectly round and about 1/8″ deep,  were part of our lives for a long time. I can’t imagine the disappointment my parents must have felt when they realized what had happened to the brand new floor.  There was, of course, nothing to be done.  Not crying over spilled milk was not considered a rule; it was just a sensible way to handle innocent disasters.

Wonderful new things we had never before had use for were purchased after Dad was notified of the estimated date for the juice being turned on.  When the REA (Rural Electric Administration) notified the community that electricity would soon be available, an   assortment of appliances was brought home: a toaster, a radio, an electric mixer for Mom.

Sweet Little Alice Blue Gown, as sung by the obviously-much-loved mother of whoever posted this on YouTube a couple of years ago.  Dusty keyboard alert.

Kerosene lamps for household light were familiar and practical for us, and were still being used when I was old enough to sleep upstairs in the big bed with my sister.  I remember the two of us making our our way up the stairs after dark, the lamp carefully carried by her. I was about five and certainly not trusted to safely manage such a task.  With our ten room house, there were a lot of kerosene lamps on the move all the time, particularly in morning and evening.

There was never a fire related accident, which makes sense when you think of it.  Managing lamps so that they didn’t start fires and burn people or things was not much different than today’s task of managing dinner candles so they don’t start fires that burn people or things. Most of us probably don’t know of many situations where folks burn their houses down from mishandling table candles today. It was no more likely that homes would have been burned down then from the misuse of kerosene lamps.

An electric wringer washing machine came into the house, so the old wash boards could be set aside.  The wood stove that the water was heated on in the basement would still sit right where it was for awhile, and still was used for heating water even after the electric stove upstairs had replaced it for daily cooking chores.  Running water and a hot water heater didn’t arrive until about three years later so even though we enjoyed the electric wringer washing machine, the water still had to be heated on the old wood stove.

We were not home the day the power was turned on, but a healthy number of switches had been left in the on position in anticipation.  When we came into the house in later afternoon, lights were on everywhere, and a couple of things were whirring.  Good times.

Down By The Old Mill Stream charted at #1 in December 1911. #1 for 7 weeks. Also a #1 hit for Arthur Clough in November 1911. This recording is about 100 years old.

 “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” ― Henry David Thoreau, Civil Disobedience and Other Essays