My grandparents, Francis and Catherine McCarville, lived on this farm for over 60 years, and raised eight children there. My mother, Mary Catherine, was their first daughter after five boys, and they had another son and daughter after her. The farm always looked meticulous, as it appears in this picture. As the years went by, many of their 55 grandchildren gathered there on Sundays and holidays when our parents would stop in with us for a visit. There was an apple orchard and a big barn and a grove of trees; so many places to explore and play.
Grandpa and Grandma McCarville were amazing people. They had a strong faith, and devotion to each other.They both read all the time, and I loved to search their bookshelves for books to borrow. On summer afternoons, Grandpa would sit on the porch and listen to Cubs' games on a transistor radio. There was an antique rocker in the corner of the dining room where he would rock each of the grandbabies while he sang them a little lullaby. Grandma taught me to sew, crochet, garden, and bake pies, and always had gingersnaps to serve with afternoon tea. They loved to play bridge, anywhere, anytime. We grandchildren felt like we were always welcome at the farm. There were lots of good stories, shared meals, and wonderful memories that filled that little home. It is surprising to see it now and realize how small the house was that held all those special times for so many of us.

I remember it so well
Grandpa always had fire works for the Fourth of July
And hand made ice cream that took too much energy to finish
And he had a peacock that roamed the grounds and an Iseta ( I think that’s how it’s spelled) a tiny car with a front opening door that he won some where
And you could play hopscotch on their side walk
I just remember good times filled with family
Those where the days