Last night we watched Hee Haw together as a family. I had ordered it on Netflix. As soon as the donkey came on and the music started, I was thrown back in time. When I was little every Saturday we would go to my grandparents on the other side of the county. We would go eat dinner and watch Hee Haw and then Lawrence Welk. Then we would go home to get ready for church the next day. So when the donkey came on, I was tossed through time. I could see the dimly lit kitchen. Hear Mom and Grandma putting away the last of the dishes. Remembered the cupboard that was behind the table. There was a little countertop shelf to put food on, since the table was small, and Grandma would make a scratch chocolate cake to put there for dessert. We would sit in the livingroom. Most of us shoved together on the couch, Papaw in his chair, Great-Grandma Phillips in her rocker rubbing snuff. The tv was maybe a 19 inch screen on a bookshelf. There was the smell of burning coal from the stoves. It was a weekly ritual, and I was amazed at how suddenly the memory returned. I wonder what will trigger memories for my children.