The Little Blue House on the Hill
A Mother’s Day story for my young grandson. It may sound a bit like your own story, if you grew up in the country like I did.
Photos and text © 2020 Anita Hamilton; exceptions noted at the end of this story.
Once upon a time, when Grandma was a little girl about your age, she lived in a little blue house on a hill in the country.
I lived in that little blue house on the hill with MY mom and dad, my big brother Bruce, and big sister Gail.
One day when I was a big girl, a little older than you are now, Mom and Dad came home with an exciting surprise – my baby brother, Mark!
Now I was a big sister to my little brother Mark.
My mom – your Great-Grandma June – liked to bake yummy pies, cakes, and chocolate chip cookies for us.
Mom took care of all of us – me, my brother Bruce, big sister Gail, little brother Mark, Dad, and even my cousins sometimes too!
Mom spent a lot of time cleaning the house, baking, and working outside in the yard and garden of our little blue house on the hill.
There was so much work to do that Mom only watched TV while she ironed clothes, or when she was on the couch resting her eyes.
Mom especially loved flowers, and that’s why I love flowers too.
Dad (your Great-Grandpa) was called Wendall by Mom and other grown-ups.
Dad left the little blue house on the hill early every morning before I got up, to go to work at a big grocery store.
He came back home to our little blue house on the hill in time for supper every night.
When Dad was at home he liked to fix things around the house, mow the lawn, go fishing, or sit quietly reading and smoking a pipe.
He liked to read me stories when I sat snuggled up beside him or on his lap, and that’s why I like reading too.
A busy road went by the front of our little blue house on a hill, and lots of cars and big trucks drove very fast on it.
Sometimes the truck drivers would honk their horns at us if we were outside when they drove by.
Uncle Wendell was a farmer who had a big laugh, and he raised brown cows for milk.
Aunty Pat worked in a hospital as a nurse and wore a white uniform.
My big cousins that lived across the road were Chris, Nancy, Tommy, and a little boy close to my age, called Mike.
The youngest little boy of all, was named Peter.
I was lucky to have so many cousins living close by to play with.
When I was a little girl living in the little blue house on the hill, I could look across a couple of big fields and see my Gramma and Grampa’s house – they were your Great-Great-Grandparents.
They lived on a farm too, and had black and white cows that Grampa got milk from.
Grampa had a special dog called Queenie that helped him with the cows.
When Grampa whistled, Queenie would make the cows go where Grampa wanted them to. What a smart dog!
Before I was born, Grampa used to drive his horse and wagon to take the milk from his cows to the dairy, so other little boys and girls could drink milk.
When Grampa wasn’t working in the barn, he liked to watch wrestling on television.
Gramma was a good cook and she helped Grampa with chores on the farm.
When she wasn’t doing housework and helping with chores, Gramma liked to go to the library and get books to read.
If we were thirsty on a hot day, we could use the black-handled pump outside Gramma’s house to pump a glass of water to drink.
The little blue house on the hill where I grew up had a big front yard with a pretty flowers, and a big garden in the back yard.
I liked to help Mom and Dad in the garden.
First we planted seeds. When the seeds grew into plants, we’d pull carrots, or pick beans or peas to eat for supper.
We ate yummy strawberries and raspberries right from the garden.
All around the little blue house on a hill, were fields with cows, or crops like hay, straw, or corn.
If corn was planted in those fields the cornstalks would grow taller than Mom and Dad!
My big brother Bruce, sister Gail, little brother Mark, and my cousins and I, played hide-and-seek in the corn field.
Whenever there was a special day like Mother’s Day, Mom and Dad, my big brother Bruce, sister Gail, little brother Mark, and our aunts and uncles and cousins from across the road, and some more cousins and aunts and uncles from even further away, would all get together at Gramma and Grampa’s house.
While the grown-ups cooked food for us and laughed in the kitchen, we kids would help set the table and get chairs for everyone. We needed A LOT of chairs.
There was always jello with fruits or vegetables in it, and potatoes which I DID NOT like.
Way back then your Grandma was a skinny little girl about your size, and a VERY picky eater.
There would always be LOTS of dessert after we ate our vegetables, because Mom and Gramma liked to bake pies and cakes for us. That’s why I like eating cake.
After dessert, I’d play with my cousins outside if it was nice.
If it was rainy or cold, we stayed indoors and played card games, or games with little pegs or marbles on a board.
At the end of the day we’d all say goodbye. There was lots of hugging and kissing from the aunts, uncles, cousins, and Gramma and Grampa. That’s why I like to hug and kiss you!
Then I’d go home to our little blue house on the hill with Mom and Dad, my big brother Bruce, sister Gail, and my little brother Mark.
Mom and Dad would tuck me into bed at night and read me a short bedtime story. Not a long one, because I’d be tired from eating all of that food and doing all of that playing.
Do you want to know a secret?
Grampa’s Mom and Dad read bedtime stories to him too!
One day my mom told me that when SHE was a little girl – a LONG LONG LONG LONG LONG LONG LONG time ago – SHE’d always wanted to live in a little blue house on a hill!
So after Mom and Dad were married, before I was born, their friends and family helped them build a little blue house on a hill.
The VERY SAME little blue house on a hill that I lived in with my Mom and Dad, and big brother Bruce and sister Gail, and little brother Mark!
I’d go to sleep, tucked into my warm cosy bed, in the bedroom I shared with my big sister Gail, in our little blue house on the hill.
That little blue house on the hill is gone now.
But on Mother’s Day, and every day, I smile when I remember when I was a little girl just about your age.
And I think of MY Mom and Dad, my brothers and sister, my aunts and uncles and cousins, Gramma and Grampa, and that little blue house on the hill.
Happy Mother’s Day
to everyone who’s like a Mom to some little or big, boy or girl,
whether they are carried by their mom or dad, walk on feet or hooves, ride on wheels, fly in the air with wings, or swim in the water with fins.
All text and photos of this story are © 2020 Anita Hamilton and all rights are reserved. Do not use or reproduce without written permission. Exceptions are the Black Horse and Wagon, and these photos via Unsplash:
- Chocolate Chip Cookies: Grayson Smith
- Grocery Store Aisle: Nathalia Rosa
- Jersey Cow: Ronan Furuta
- Pump and Flowers: Fikri Rasyid
- Strawberries: Oliver Hale
- Corn Field: Waldemar Brandt
- Potatoes Photo: Eiliv-Sonas Aceron
- Chocolate Cake Photo: Food Photographer | Jennifer Pallian