Illustrated by Valerie Rambach


                                                                                 Aunt Mary's
                                                                     written by Rita Chiavacci


                As children we never had a "vacation" vacation.  The highlights of our summers
were Memorial Day, Fourth of July, and Labor Day. Three times each summer we had what my family called "blowouts" at my Aunt Mary's farm.  Aunt Mary was my Mom's oldest sister.  My mother came from a family of eleven children.  All her sisters and brothers lived in neighboring towns.  Each family now had from one to ten children.  We were quite a crew.

               The day before the “blowout” was one filled with food preparation.  Mom baked and cooked most of the day.

                Everyone got up early the next morning to begin getting "ready".  We didn't own a car, so we always rode with my Aunt Helen and her family.  Aunt Helen was one of Mom’s younger sisters.

                As each car arrived, there was a flurry of children running from cars, calling out names, and laughing as each cousin was greeted.  The men and women also greeted one another with hugs and handshakes.  There was always an air of genuine happiness at seeing one another.  
 
               The men carried containers of food from the cars to awaiting picnic tables.  Roasters of fried chicken, bowls of potato salad, pots of stuffed cabbage rolls, pans of lasagna, pies, cakes, pineapple squares, and desserts of all kinds filled the tables. 

               Fresh corn was brought in from the fields.  It would be steamed in its husks.  Clams were brought and were also steamed in pits in the ground.  A keg of beer was tapped for the adults and root beer was tapped for the children. 

                As the adults busied themselves with last minute chores, the children scattered to have fun.  There was so much to experience.

                Sports equipment waited the eventual choosing of teams for a game of softball or volleyball.  The teams would eventually consist of the men, women and children.  The men and older boys were the big guns.  The women and children, at best, tried to hold their own. 

                The animals were always a main attraction for the children.  Since we lived in towns, we found the animals a great novelty.  Ducks and geese scooted among the children.  Pigs wallowed in their muddy pens.  Cows grazed contentedly in the pastures, and the old workhorse enjoyed a day off from his labors.  We were sometimes treated to a hayride through the fields.  Rides were dependent on the workload awaiting the horse the following week.  
            
                 Laughter seemed to be everywhere.  The men enjoyed horseshoe tossing or card playing.  The roar of their laughter was without measure.  Even disagreements were not taken seriously.  There was always a hint of amusement in the complaints.  The women sat in groups telling family stories.  Laughter sometimes bringing tears, as they could not contain their emotions.  The children also shared hearty laughs as they romped and ran with each other and some of the animals.

                  I loved the swings.  My older cousin would stand on the seat as I sat between her legs.  As she bent her knees to pump the swing, I would reach out with mine to gather momentum.  I can still feel the exhilaration of being able to swing into the tree and feel the leaves brush my legs.

                 There was so much to explore.  My cousins and I walked the fieldstone wall that separated the various fields.  It was like walking a balance beam.  Arms extended, we cautiously moved along the uneven stone of the wall.

                 We were not allowed in the hayloft of the barn, but took the risk of getting caught. It was like being in another world.  Imaginations were allowed to create monsters waiting to pounce on us.  The scolding we were subjected to, when caught, was soon forgotten.

                Chores for my cousins continued, even though it was a fun day for us.  We were able to help gather eggs and watch as the pigs were fed and the cows were milked. Everyone in a farm family participates in the work.  Days start early in the morning and end when the sun goes down.

                Mealtime was always wonderful.  Running and playing created large appetites.  Fresh garden cucumbers, radishes, peppers, tomatoes and leaf lettuce made succulent salads, to compliment the cooking of my Mom and her sisters and sisters-in law.  Every one had a chance to sample each cooks specialty.  
 
                Fresh milk from the cows combined with fresh fruit became a very special treat. All the children would get in a line to take turns turning the crank of an old wooden ice cream maker.  As the mixture began to thicken, arms became tired and turns at cranking came more quickly.  The concoction that was finally spooned into our bowls was one of the most luscious treats any child could imagine.   

               As the day waned, little legs began to give in to exhaustion.  Women finished the re-packing of leftover food, while men disposed of the mounds of trash that had accumulated.  Cars were again filled with food containers (many of them empty).
  
              Men and women hugged and said their good-byes.  Children continued to call to one another through open car windows, as one by one the cars formed a caravan heading back home. 
    
             Another "blow-out" had come to an end.

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