Tuesday, February 4, 2020

Slice of Life #52 Stories: 5/52, A Weekend Trip to the Flat

We're all packed and ready for the drive to Granny's house. But first, we sit in the car and wait for Mom to get off work. Dad drums on the roof of the car and I imagine rows and rows of Army men marching there. Finally, Mom comes out the door of W.T. Grants and we are ready for the three hour drive to McNally Flat from where we live in Tulsa. It's the early 1960s. Kay and Karl are in the back seat, but as the youngest in the family, I get to sit in the front seat between Mom and Dad. 

We head south in our '53 light blue and white Chevy. Most of the drive is on two lane highways, but I know we're getting closer once we turn onto the dirt roads of the flat. We urge Dad to pick up speed for the thrill hill as Mom cautions him, "Be careful, Ellis." It's like being in our own roller coaster as we fly down the hill, that fun feeling in our tummies. 

It's been a long drive and my eyelids are droppy. Sure enough, as soon as I drift off, a rabbit scampers across the road. I sit up straighter, trying hard to stay awake so I won't miss the next one. I watch the glow cast by the headlights hoping mightily for another bunny to hop across the road. My vigilance is rewarded. 

It's impossible to go to sleep now. There's Uncle Aaron's house to watch for and then Aunt Ruby Dee's house. After that it's a short jaunt to Granny's house, but the second best part of the trip is coming. It's a favorite game we always play. As we round the bend, it's a game to see who can shout out, "I spy Granny's house," first! We pull into the drive and tumble sleepily into Granny's house, ready for a weekend of fun at the farm.   

And the best part of the trip? It had to be sitting snuggled between my parents, cocooned by their love, listening to Dad sing and Mom tell stories about growing up in the flat. 

Each Tuesday I join my fellow bloggers in "serving up a slice"
This year I'm writing 52 stories from my life.


  1. I love this story so much... of course it reminds of similar trips “down home”- though I was the oldest and the landscape was different. Instead of thrill hill, we had the singing bridge, which made the tires hum as we drive across,

  2. Wonderful memories - so fun to see what reminds me of my childhood and what is so different. Thank for sharing!

  3. This made me think of my trips to see my great aunt and uncle in the desert..Tucking this.away for a notebook idea.