There is a place I’ll not forget, when I was just a child
where members of my family would gather for a while.
We’d always meet at Christmas time, and sometimes New Year’s Eve.
Thanksgiving day was always fun. Sometimes I’d hate to leave.
We’d always have the “horse shoes” crowd, and tables full of food.
But if I were to tell the truth, the ice cream set the mood.
The older men would take their turn pulling on the crank.
But Granny Floyd would take hers too. Sometimes, it’s her we’d thank.
The ice cream took a lot of work. You couldn’t rush the pace.
I still remember the fun I had out at my Granny’s place.
The summer time would always be a special time for all.
The kids would play, adults would chat. Our life was just a ball.
And then we’d hear my Granny say, “The food is almost ready.”
I’d jump in line to get a plate behind my mom and daddy.
They’d sit and eat and tell the tales of life and all its joys,
when times were good and times were bad when they were girls and boys.
The stories that my Granny told brought smiles to every face,
and that’s one thing I remember well about my Granny’s place.