Although my sister and I were born in the city, moving to the country and growing up there was the best! I honestly can't tell you how many acres my Aunt and Uncle owned, but the place was huge. There was a big front yard and the house was set on a hill. It was one of those old colonials with a big porch that faced the hillside (pics are on Childhood Memories page). I remember, when you went it through the french doors from the porch, you were in the dining room. The living room was to the left and a curved staircase led to the upstairs where all the bedrooms and bathrooms were. My sister and I shared a room. In our room, there was a small closet and a door that led to an enclosed porch. It got really hot in there and there were always wasps buzzing around. Funny though I don't remember seeing any wasp nests. That porch was primarily used for storage. There were big poles suspended from the ceiling and our clothes were hung there. I hated that porch and I hated the wasps and I hated having to go out there! The kitchen was to the right of the dining room and off the kitchen was what was called a storeroom. There was no heat out there so that door was always kept closed. The barn was up above the house and that's where we kept our first horse, Comanche, a paint. He was great! He could turn on a dime! He was fun to ride and one of my jobs was to feed and water him daily as well as clean out the stall. I loved being outdoors and away from the inside of the house.
My sister was the oldest of us five girls. We were all about 2 years apart in age, with me being in the middle. My sister hated it when I wanted to borrow her clothes as we got older. One time she got so mad at me that she pushed my onto my bed and when I landed I hit the wall with my head! My sister had a bad temper and still does so if you ever meet her, watch out!
Back then, there was no garbage pick up so we used to load up the trash into my Uncle's pick-up truck each Saturday and bring it to the dump. I hated doing that. Why, you ask? You see, as my sister and I developed into young ladies and as our bodies changed, apparently my Uncle decided it was OK for him to take some liberties with us. No, we were never raped or sodomized. Just groped, felt, touched, fondled...and it was disgusting! I hated it and I hated being in a room or anywhere alone with him. He would reach out to take the bag of trash from your arms and he would squeeze our breast. I learned at a young age to always extend my arms with the bag held out in front of me. He'd be annoyed at that. I don't know if my sister did that as well. I didn't find out until I was an adult that he even did those things to her and vice versa. When I was learning to drive, I was behind the wheel of the station wagon and he would put his hand on my leg and head up under my skirt. I slammed on the brakes and stopped the car. I looked at him square in the eye and said, "do you do that to your girls?" He gave me a nasty look. He was MAD and told me to never tell anyone or else I would be in big trouble! There were times when he would sneak into our bedroom and pick up the covers of my sister's bed. I would see him peeking at my sister while she slept. I would moan, groan and roll over as if I were waking up. Then he would leave the room, closing the door behind him. Now I understand fully that when the time came for her to marry, she never came to visit, never called. I was told that "she doesn't love you either".
Yes, I now know why. It wasn't that she didn't love me. She never wanted to be around him anymore!