He took us to see my great aunt Iva. She was precious, and bragged to all the gals in the nursing home, "Isn't this my lucky day?" No, it was our lucky day.
Uncle Lowell is the epitome of a Southern gentleman. A terrible accident involving a jack under a fire truck giving way and crushing his lung, then a crippling reaction to a vaccination would set most folks back. He insisted on opening the doors for all of us ladies. Sharp, witty, and handsome. That's what he is.
My papa built his barn, which still stands.
And then we got to see my great Grandpa and Grandma Stanley's house, built in the early 1900's. My great-grandparents outlived their son, and I spent many vacation days running in and out of this little house. It's funny, but many times when I am reading a book and the story evokes a small country house image, I put the characters in this house. Even this year, the family in the book Jacob, Have I Loved lived in this house in my mind. It's had some fire damage, but I was happy to see it again.
And the spring house. Always cool. Always with a tin cup to get some water. Always full of Grandma Stanley's canning. Always wondering if it might have a snake.