Thinking about screen doors brought back other visions of rooms from my childhood, like the bucket of water in the kitchen with an enamel or tin dipper down in it, the same dipper from which everybody drank... family, friends, visiting strangers; all sharing germs and saliva, and nobody giving it a second thought.
Then I recalled the wooden screen doors on small-town stores of my childhood, and how they had "Colonial Bread is Good Bread" metal signs on them. In a fit of Googling, I found an article describing country stores as I remember them. Further searching led to the best find of all...
Thanks for the memories, Guy.
