We called it the garage, but it was really an old shed. It was in the back yard of the house where I lived as a child.
A few years ago, my niece, Donna, who is super-talented – just like her siblings and their mother, did this sketch of the old shed. Although my Mom’s car and riding lawn mower weren’t in the picture Donna went by, she added those into the sketch! I told you she was talented.
I love this sketch. For some reason, seeing the trees and the fence along the back of the shed just brings back so many memories.
Since my nieces and nephews were around my age, we all played together as children. A lot of our time was spent playing in this old shed. It had a loft, but I was always too afraid to do more than just peek up there from the safety of the ladder. I’m not sure how much time my nieces and nephews spent up there, but they weren’t afraid to venture off the ladder like I was.
This picture was taken when I was about a year old. That’s my late brother-in-law, Ed (Donna’s dad). And there’s the old shed. 
The shed was torn down years ago, so I’m glad we have this photo. Most of my memories of times spent there are good ones. But one day, that shed – or rather, the contents of it- got us in trouble.
My daddy once had a workshop in the old shed. And there was a vice in his workshop. One day, when we were children, my nephews and I decided it would be really cool to crush black walnuts in that vice.
I’m sure it was one of my nephews who came up with the idea. I can say this with certainty because neither of them is on this blog to defend himself.
Our mothers were NOT happy about the decision to crush walnuts, since it resulted in us having walnut stain all over our hands. And nothing, NOTHING, they tried would remove that stain.
As children, we’d never heard about walnut stain. We learned pretty quickly how permanent it is. Well, I guess semi-permanent, since it did eventually wear off.
I don’t think I ever went near that vice again. And if I did, you can bet I didn’t crush walnuts in it.
these days of mine 
Since the tree to the left of the shed/garage/barn was the black walnut tree, y’all had an endless supply of walnuts to crack! You didn’t mention that Eddie, your oldest nephew, got that stain on his hands just a day or so before he started in the first grade!!! I was VERY unhappy because he’d be starting school with those stained hands.
AND John, the youngest nephew, fell off the ladder to the loft and pulled a muscle in his leg. For the rest of the day you and Eddie pulled him around the yard in your wagon.
Some things even an old mind remembers!
The old shed was great, and Donna’s picture REALLY captures it… I know that I played around the old garage some, and remember hearing all the tales about it… I also don’t remember ever playing with any black walnuts !
Grandma’s house was my favorite place to visit. I always loved spendng the night there on the weekends. Watching TV with Grandma and playing out in that old shed (even if Mom wouldn’t let us play with the walnuts.)
Thinks for reminding me of those great memories.
Oh and to me…it wouldn’t have been Grandma’s barn without the mower.
We also had an old shed in our your that was once a garage with doors on the front. One Sunday, I decided I was going to drive (age 6). I slipped behing the will of our 1952 Olds and pushed the clutch in. Since our yard sloped from the street to the back, needless to say I went for a ride. Mom and Dad came running off the front porch and luckily I was able to take my foot off the clutch before I hit the shed. My seat was sore that Sunday night in church.
Dianne you were not born when this happened or if you were you were just an infant but June will remember, June, Rosa Mae, Janet, Bobby, Joanne and myself were out in the shed playing one day and someone decided, not me, that we should smoke. Well as I remember we almost burned that shed down because we did not have enough cigerattes for everyone and I remember telling them if I did not get to smoke I was going to tell on them. I was the youngest probably just six or maybe younger. So they decided instead of giving me a good cigeratte, that would make me sick, they would role up some toilet paper and let me puff on that. Well try lighting a match to tissue paper and see how fast it burns. I am sure everyone of them will have a different twist to the tale but you can bet we created a fire and lots of smoke and it scared the bejesus out of US. I don’t remember our punishment but you can bet we all got punished…..haven’t remembered this for years. I am laughing as I write because I can actually see us scrambling to put that fire out and hear the screams…..There was no running water anywhere near that shed. Seems like every childhood memory with my Ellis cousins someone always bought up smoking. And Janet was one of the ring leaders, she was hooked at any early age. So many memories!!!!!!!!
I remember seeing that old shed behind your house everytime we drove by.
I don’t know if you remember where I lived on Rt.10 or not. My Grandmother Matthews and my Uncle Albert (Mark mail carrier in Surry Co, til he died in 1979) lived on the family farm by the TV tower and my parents builded on the other side of the tower in the early “60s”, then we moved to Smithfield in 1968. I was kind of scary of the old barns and sheds too but good times anyway.
Oh, Dianna, Dianna, Dianna – absolutely hilarious. And I thought you never did anything mischievious!!
I wish we had reconnected before your Mom died. I would have loved to spend some time with her
Hi Dianna,
Thank you so much for stopping by my blog. Yes I agree Pioneer woman is a hoot. I wanted to drop by your site and read about you since you found me.
I look forward to stopping by again.
Have a bless day!
Viola over at http://www.alongawidowedroad.blogspot.com
Hi Dianna,
I tried sending you a reply earlier today. Thank you for visiting my blog. I would love to come back and visit and read more of yours.
Again Thank you for finding mine via the Pioneer Womens.
God bless,
Viola over at http://www.alongawidowedroad.blogspot.com
I love this. Some of my favorites are the memories that you have of your childhood. The old pictures were wonderful and who knew Donna could draw like that! LOVED THIS!