Tracks and Whistles

When I was itty bitty I witnessed my Daddy leave the house on many cold dark mornings to go to work for Missouri Pacific Railroad. The house would smell like whatever my great grand mother would prepare for his breakfast and lunch. All bundled up and with his things the wood stairs would quickly creak with every step he took toward the front door. I loved that sound. I still love the sound and feel of wood beneath my feet. “Be particular” Mama would say to Daddy as he was just about out the door. He’d answer in the affirmative, a word or two, then the door would shut. Most mornings I was not awake for this display of love and duty yet I remember so much about it when I was. Afterward I was back in bed on those early cold winter mornings … memories.


Author: Nikki In a Nutshell

Inside Out!

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