From Where I Sit

By Pat Spilseth, Columnist

As a kid, I was bored on Sundays. Most kids felt that way; we searched for something interesting to do that was “restful.” We couldn’t play cards, go to the movies, but kids could roller skate, bike or play ball. I remember lots of No’s on Sunday, but I didn’t understand the reasoning of what was work and what wasn’t.

I’d love it when we piled into Dad’s blue Hudson or his turquoise and white Chevy with the chrome fins with the big fenders and drove off to visit with friends. One of my favorite houses to visit was Aunt Sadie’s and Grandma DeKok’s house in Brooten. All the cousins were there Sunday afternoon after they’d attended church. We’d sing at the upright piano in the living room with Cousin Doris playing the ivory keys. Later, the garage sale dolls with the missing arms or eyes would entertain me on the porch. The boys had plenty of trucks and balls to play with that Aunt Sadie had purchased for pennies at garage sales, her favorite haunt.

In town my parents liked to have coffee with the Evelyn and Adolph Husom family. Her salt and pepper collection was displayed on shelves lining a wall in her kitchen. I was fascinated by the amazing number of different pairs she collected. Inez was the teenager daughter, my heroine as she was the source of coveted hand-me-downs. Her straight wool skirts with the split seam up the back and matching sweaters made me feel grown up. Big brother Alvin had a bow and arrow which I wasn’t strong enough to pull and shoot. Usually, I’d get to build forts with him in the snow and throw snowballs.

Some Sundays we’d drive to Cousin Emery’s family, who lived on a farm with rolling hills outside of Starbuck. Clever with his hands, he built a speedy snow sled with old skis one winter. The skis didn’t sink in big drifts of fluffy snow; they glided smoothly over the snow and streaked down the hill with Emery Jr. and me riding on top. Our colorful hand-knit stocking hats and scarves, made of scrap wool, would fly behind us as our voices laughed and screamed with delight up and down the hills.

Sundays always meant dress up for early church, then a big Sunday dinner served on the good china in the rarely used dining room. Some Sundays when Dad felt a bit flush with extra cash, he would drive our family to Lowry to the Dahl Café, which featured crispy fried chicken dinners with mounds of mashed potatoes and gravy that swam over the entire plate. Sitting in the booth, I’d slide my green peas surreptitiously onto the floor. I hated peas and rice back in those days, but I ate the entire portion of corn kernels. Naturally, the cafés featured an assortment of homemade baked goodies for dessert in a revolving glass case. Picking dessert was my favorite part of the dinner.

As a kid, I loved visiting at our relatives homes, especially if kids were there who I could play with. This Easter we had four grandchildren at our house who love being together…six year old cousins Ellie and Charli are the best buddies! Today it’s the same as when I was a kid. The kids have a ball hunting for candy eggs and playing with grandma and grandpa’s toys. No fighting for eggs; no bloody noses; no hitting and kicking, just lots of excitement and joy from cousins loving time together!

* * * * * * * *

To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.