The Antediluvian Adventures of Noah's Boys: 1. Escape from Mother Earth

One of the least understood compulsions is the one to “own a pet.”   I have been a pet owner for the many years since I was four or five, and begged and pleaded for a cute little pink pig or the kittens that every farm had in abundance.   I had a kitten, until it got lost when we took it with us to the Lake Cottage, fish of many colors and sizes, and Rabbits.   Lots and lots of Rabbits.             My sister and I had a playhouse in the back of our property.   It was a 2/3 rd size house with flowers planted around it and a railed porch.   Inside were child sized toy appliances, tables, chairs, and beds.   Curtains framed the windows and rugs were on the floor.   But even such a structure lost its appeal after a while, and we wanted something ALIVE to play with.   The family next door had a dog, but better than that-they had Baby Cousins.   Little People they could wheel around in prams or pull in toy wagons.   No one seemed to come forth with any of those for us, but

This month, in honor of our mother's approaching 96th birthday, Noah's Boys is featuring some of her favorite stories.  The stories were written for a Memoirs class about twenty years ago, and they will be of special interest to the Hornings and to our Hajny cousins; but I love her style and sense of humor.  These simple stories offer keen insights of an America that is fast slipping away. Thinking back, mine was probably not a typical childhood.   Mother was business minded, a disciplinarian, socially acute, a marvelous cook and housekeeper.   Father was an Artist, meaning he was none of the above, with exception of occasional clever, beautiful, tasty desserts.   His paintings were all over our house; many others were in taverns or even in a church or two.   There were few blank spaces on our walls, even in the bathrooms, which at times had the most fanciful, attractive, and surprising art of all.   Sitting in the tub could be an adventure, like being under a Midwestern lak