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Friday, December 2, 2011

Oviedo: Always in Season

FUMC - Oviedo, FL
Yesterday I wrote a letter to a friend and spoke of my days growing up in Oviedo, FL.  The following from that letter recalls some aspects of those days.

By the way, Oviedo has a special meaning for me.  I lived there when I was 6-9 years old (1950-1954), and it floods my mind with golden memories.  That's where we had a spoiled pet squirrel that ate only shelled pecans, where my brother taught me to ride a bike and I thereby learned that exhilarating accomplishment first entails assuming risks, where I learned to tell time and spell "bicycle" and "banana," where I learned that Santa shipped packages complete with canceled stamps still on the box through the US mail--a Christmas morning dawn of skepticism, where we boys hewed out a quiet sunlit chapel in the woods, where I embarrassed mother by asking at the dinner table with the district superintendent as our guest whether the spread she served that day was "real butter"--it wasn't, where I happened upon a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, where dad raised Rhode Island Red chickens in a backyard pen, and where while raking oak leaves in the front yard on Saturdays we heard Big Jon and Sparkie on radio .  The home where we lived is still there, tucked away on the expanded church campus and now used as an education building.  The satin robe azaleas around the front of the house that dad fertilized with chicken manure are now gone--but in fact only, not from my awareness colored heavily by persistent memory.

Theme song introducing Big Jon and Sparkie that would waft over our front yard Saturday mornings………..
(With special thanks to Frank Johnson for discovering this.)


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