Memories of My Childhood at My Grandpa’s Farm
A couple of days ago my cousin David posted a picture of a lane on our grandfather’s farm. It brought back such memories – a gravel lane with out buildings in the right. On the left, in our youth, there were animals. In particular I remember the pigs. No matter how late we arrived at the farm, my Grandpa took me down to see the pigs. I was fascinated. For this city child, the farm was magical.
We didn’t live close to cousins. At the time, before the advent of 4 lane highways, it was an 8-hour drive from our home to the farm. We knew we were close when we hit the gravel road. That gravel road meant something amazing for us as kids.
Grandpa had pigs, cows, and chickens. He grew corn and wheat and soybeans. He drove a tractor and had a manure spreader. Wow! The best treat ever was to ride on the tractor with Grandpa. Today, that would never happen.
When we were at the farm with our cousins we would play in the loft of the barn, toss cow pies at one another, and ride in the back of the pick up truck to the store for our RC colas.
Grandpa made us toys of scrap wood and the metal hoops from barrels. He crafted pogo sticks out of items in the machine shed. HE always smelled of chewing tobacco and the outdoors. He had a distinctive drawl that sounded as only that corner of southwestern Indiana / Posey County can sound.
The absolutely best memory, however, was sitting in the green painted wooden swing on the porch of the smoke house, looking out over the pasture, watching the sunset, listening to the cicadas, smelling the freshness of the air, and feeling peace. Even now, looking back on a time I haven’t experienced since 1986, I feel joy thinking about those days. I still miss my grandpa and the farm. And I am so grateful to my cousin for posting that picture that resurrects those memories. Thank you David. I love you!
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