My earliest memories

are of crawling on the kitchen floor. The floor was hardwood boards, and there was a large crack along one board, and the cold air used to come up through the crack. It was nice and warm over near the cookstove, which was our only source of heat.

We had a five-legged oak table, but the fifth leg didn't quite reach the floor. We had an oak sideboard, a daybed, a rocking chair, and several pressed-back chairs. The floor had a hump in it, and I used to roll marbles down the grade.

One of my first toys was the foot from an organ stool complete with glass ball and iron claw. I used to pretend it was a gun. My mother was always there. In the winter, all rooms were blocked off from the kitchen to keep us warm.