This will probably be a multi-part series. Not sure how many at this point. This post is about my younger years, up to about 5 years old.
My name is Holly and I was born and raised in Maryland. I grew up in an old farmhouse, built in 1900. My parents were Max and Charlotte (Ningard) Morris. They met in Ocean City, MD in 1968, married in 1969.
That’s my mom with her Chevelle. She sold it in the ’90’s for what she paid for it. It needed major work!
That’s my dad. He just shot a groundhog. I grew up in a hunting and fishing family. I never went hunting with my dad, but I loved to fish. I now wish I had gone hunting with him, but I can’t change the past.
I was born in 1977 and I had one sister. I say “had” because we had a falling out after my dad passed away in 2017. I’m not going into detail about her and what happened, but it was bad. I haven’t talked to her in almost 2 years.
I was ALWAYS outside!! If you couldn’t find me I was probably up a tree. I started climbing shortly after I learned to walk. I also liked to wander, especially if my dad was watching me. I remember a story my mom always told, it was shortly after my sister was born. I was around two years old. It was probably the weekend because my dad was home, I wanted to go outside with him. Mom didn’t want to let me, but dad promised he’d keep an eye on me. Well, a few minutes later mom got a call from the neighbor wanting to know if she (my mom) knew where I was. “She’s outside with her dad” was the reply. Nope! I had wandered up to the farm house. Mom decided to play a joke on dad…at first he thought I’d come back inside. After looking around a bit, mom said something about me wandering into the cornfield…dad got about two or three rows in when mom started laughing. “She’s gone up to Mr. Smith’s.” I’m sure my dad wasn’t too happy, but at the same time relieved.
The house didn’t always look like this! It originally had asbestos siding, and a metal awning over the front door. When we moved, they tore the house down and burned it. They had to take the siding off to do this (more about this in a later post). Many memories were made here.
I loved the beach! The first time my parents took me to the beach – I was about 6 months old – my mom stuck my feet in the water and I cried when she took me out. We went there every year til 1990 or 91 when huricane Bob damaged the camper too much to be used for camping (it is used for storage now). When my mom was pregnant with me, everyone told her to be careful or I’d be born with sand on my feet.
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