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Friday, March 23, 2012

The Guest Bedroom



Chamber Pot with lid similar to the one stashed beneath the bed in the upstairs bedroom on the Learch Farm in Owatonna, MN around 1950.[Photo Copyright © 2012 Coolcatinshades  and used with permission]

A couple days ago, Humble Blogger was lying on the bed in the upstairs bedroom of our Town House in St. Paul, MN hoping to catch a short cat-nap.  It was mid-afternoon and loving wife Rose had opened the windows wide to let in the fresh spring air.  I dozed off feeling the gentle breeze on my face and listening to the rustling of curtains. 

As I gradually awoke to the persistent breeze and flapping curtains, my memory took me back in time to an upstairs bedroom on my grandparent's farm  on St. Paul road in Owatonna, MN.  The year was about 1950.  Back then, It was customary for each of us three brothers (starting at age 7 or 8)  to take turns turns staying at the farm one week out of the summer giving our parents in residential Owatonna a small break from managing three energetic sons to just two.  


Humble Blogger sucking on a straw or a stick during his week at the Farm

We got to stay in one of the two seldom used dormered upstairs guest bedroom which were accessed through a door from the farmhouse's small living room. A walk up a steep narrow staircase led to a room on either side whose inside ceilings matched the pitch of the roof.   The rooms had a single bed,  maple dressers and other items placed there for storage.  A few books were stacked on the dressers. The bedrooms had enough mystery that whenever we visited the farm, we would walk upstairs and "check out" the insides of the dresser drawers, and books and photos hanging on the wall.   I recall the room I stayed in to the right of the staircase had a single window looking through the dormer on the roof which overlooked the Pigpen, Corn Bin, chicken coup and attached chain-link fence running pen for Margaret Mary's toy terrier "Pepper".  My Aunt Margaret was Grandpa's adult daughter who lived with them at the farm.   I think Pepper was placed in the running pen for his own protection.  A public road named "St. Paul Road" was nearby and it was all to easy for Pepper to run into the road. Grandpa had other larger dogs but they stayed in the barn.


Photo Above: Left to Right, Humble Blogger's grandma Margaret Eleanore, her visiting sister Anne, her mother Mary Learch and another visiting sister Mary who everyone called Mayme. This was the "Learch Farm" which grandpa Andrew and wife Margaret Eleanore moved to when Humble Blogger's parents married in 1939 and took over grandpa and grandma's home in Owatonna, MN.  Andrew and Margaret Eleanore wanted to care for Margaret Eleanore's ailing mother Mary Learch. Peeking out of the screen door is their adult daughter (and my aunt) Margaret Mary. This was the most used entrance to the house.  The front entrance on the opposite side, facing St Paul Road was seldom used.

One of the more unusual features of that upstairs bedroom for a 8 year old kid accustomed to bathrooms,  was the white, trimmed in red porcelain coated pot which we were supposed to pee into in the morning (example shown in the top photo). The farmhouse had a bathroom by that time but no visiting grandson dared find his way to the bathroom (off the kitchen) with busy grandparents around.  As a kid, I had to first figure out how to pee into the pot without staining the hardwood floor and then worry about what was going to happen to the pot afterwards. Not every day, but at least every other, I saw Grandma Margaret Eleanore carry the pot down the stairs and maybe to the bathroom but maybe also to the grass outside. 

After a couple days on the farm, I became accustomed to my new routine and surroundings.  I slept well in my upstairs room and would awaken gradually to a cooling morning breeze seeping through my open window heavy with a smell of clover. For a few wakening moments, I lay silently listening to Pepper's constant "yapping" and the occasional noisy car or pickup truck passing on the road beneath or the chugging of the neighbor's tractor in the field.  I had mastered the Chamber Pot and would soon be treated to bacon and eggs (fried in bacon grease) and homemade bread, butter and jelly.  I would then go outside and make my day.  A kid's life got no better.

Then, just as suddenly, my thoughts returned to a March day in 2012, in my bed with the window open and a cooling breeze filling the room. I had been given a gift from the past. By force of will I could return to the guest bedroom again but never by the same path...