Monday, October 17, 2011

Lead Hill

We went back home this weekend, to Mom's farm to check on things. I'm not going to say it felt good to go back, it never does anymore since she's not there. We talk the whole trip, that road is as familiar as the back of my hand. Over the mountains, past the little towns of Goshen and Marble, many curves and many farms just like Mom's that now stand vacant of families. Old homesteads all along the way that used to have smoke curling out the chimneys and supper on the stove. Like I said, not easy.

There's so much that needs to be done there, if I lived close we could spend a year just on the care of the pastures. So.much.work. That's the way it is with a farm. We might dream and idolize living on our own piece of land, but in reality it's hard work, never ending. When my Grandparents lived there, Grandpa spent a part of everyday cutting hay or clearing brush. Without that, pastures grow up with sprouts that turn into trees. The paths that used to run across the property are now invisible to the eye, but in my mind I know exactly where they ran. Out past the chicken house to the clearing at the top of the hill where Grandpa would feed late in the afternoon. The cows would follow along behind the truck as he threw hay from the bed of that old International pickup. I loved to go there, years and years of weekends and summers and holidays on that farm.


We fixed the window, swept the floor and locked the door. Down Keeling lane to check another pasture, back across the mountains, around the curves and home again. The trip home is always quiet, I'm lost in my thoughts and my memories. All good ones.


17 comments:

  1. Sometimes change really hurts. Surround yourself with the good memories of the the years gone by.

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  2. Finally, someone who understands what is involved on a farm! It is never ending or it just gets away from you quickly. DH spends a lot of time clipping pastures. It doesn't take over a year for the weeds and saplings to take over!

    I don't like to drive by Mom and Dad's house. I think I have gone down the street one time. It is very sad for me.

    That first picture is just a thing of beauty. It would look wonderful enlarged and framed.

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  3. A farm is indeed much work. Change is hard on families....

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  4. Life on the farm is very hard work, rewarding too, I suppose. What a lot of lovely memories you have.

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  5. What a mixed-bag of emotions.
    <<>>

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  6. What wonderful memories you have but understand how hard it is to go back to the shadow of the way it was.

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  7. Through the years I am sure many wonderful farms have grown over. They sadly may not have anyone around any more to remember the good times and hard work that took place on that farm.
    Melancholy ride home for sure.

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  8. Beautiful photo. - It is sad that we sometimes can not care for our loved ones properties after they are gone. When my grandmothers place was sold (me kicking and screaming), I cried for a week. - Remember, you are doing the best that you can when you don't live right on the land. xo

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  9. Ahhh...sweet memories.

    The top picture is breathtaking.

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  10. a melancholy post, for sure...

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  11. Joycee
    I can relate completely to your feelings. Wonderful memories mixed with sadness.

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  12. I share way too much sometimes, but you guys are GOOD listeners!

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  13. I know exactly how you feel. My sister and I have the property that belonged to my grandparents and their parents before them. It's a mess since my grandparents passed away. Since I'm almost a thousand miles away, there's very little I can do about it, or with it, except pay the taxes, remember the old days, and fret about the deadbeats that want a free ride.

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  14. Sweet and bittersweet. I can't imagine how sad it must be for non-believers. At least we know we will see them again!
    You honor the memories with your sweet thoughts and words.
    -Revi

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  15. What a lovely post! You had me right there in the car with you.... thanks for sharing.
    Grace

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  16. Joyce, such a bittersweet post. Beautiful photos and I am so proud you have wonderful memories of times spent there. Sometime it is hard to go home again. For me, I live across the street from my parnets home and have to see it everyday. Sadly the couple who bought it does not keep it up. For a year or so, I couldn't let myself sit on the porch and look over there. Thinking my Daddy would be so upset as he took so much pride in the place. But we survive and life goes on. Thanks for sharing this heartfelt post with us today.
    Angela

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