The Farm

    We spent last weekend at the farm that my dad was born and raised on, and now owns. He and mom are building a new house. I should have taken pictures of the old house! Maybe next time we go out. It's a dark, dusty, drafty old house that Grandpa pieced together from the old Mormon church they were tearing down in town. It has no foundation, and Dad remembers how they dug out the dirt underneath the house, bucket by bucket, when he was a kid. Now that basement is a scary snake and spider and web ridden dungeon-like hole that I will never step foot into. But the living room has a wood stove that warms the house to about 120 degrees in the winter. I love the smell of it! It's so cozy to wake up in the morning to the smell and sound of wood burning. Grandpa used to get up early every morning, start the fire, make coffee, and sit in his chair reading his bible. Now when I get up I see my dad doing the same thing. Drinking his coffee, reading his bible, and enjoying a warm fire. Time changes everything, and nothing.
    One night before bed, while everything was dark, the kids were asleep, and the fire was crackling, mom and I snooped through the house. We were looking for some treasures. And we found a couple! Treasures to us, anyway. We found old pictures of Grandpa, some of his horses, some of my aunt's wedding... We also found some journals of Grandpa's. His daily notes. Just a sentence or two for each day. Most of them were about the weather, and feeding the horses. Every saturday he drove the nearly 100 miles to Durango, CO to see Grandma. She was paralyzed from a bout of cancer in her spine years ago. He loved her so much! One time when mom and dad were staying with him, he called her. When she answered, he just set the phone down on the table. He picked up his guitar and played and sang "Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?" Afterwards, they talked just for a moment before he hung up. He then told mom, "I don't think I should have done that." When mom asked why, he told her that he made Grandma cry. She assured him it was tears of joy. :) In his journals, on the days that he visited Grandma, that little note was circled and doodled around. As if those were the most important entries, and he spent a little extra time thinking about it.
   Among the things we found was a book that caught my eye. It was old. But the first few pages were torn, so I couldn't find a date. It's called Thirty One Years On The Plains And In The Mountains. It's filled with the wild adventures of a man named Drannan. The names of a few chapters that had us rolling with laughter - "Phil the Cannibal", "A lively battle with Pah-Utes--Pinned to saddle with an arrow-- Some very good Indians" "Something worse than fighting Indians--Dance at Col. Elliott's--Conspicuous suit of buckskin" "A detective from Chicago--he goes home with an old Mormon's youngest wife and gets into trouble--The flight" We got a few extra laughs from the last chapter after I couldn't resist reading such scandal! Upon a little research, we found the stories are NOT true, simply exciting fabrications of the man's mind.... well, mostly from his wife's mind actually. It IS an old book however! It was printed in 1892. And by the condition of it, it was well loved.

                                         
   Mom and I spent the majority of the time in the old house, while Rob and Dad spent the majority of theirs working on the new one. I did think to take some pictures of the work in progress.

             Most of the siding is done. Once they move in, they'll tear down Grandpa's house (you can see a bit of it on the left) then build the garage in it's place.

                             
                                         The entry.

                         The living room with French doors that will lead to a deck in the back.

                      The kitchen, with the pantry off to the right. The entry is on the left of the picture, you can see the closet there as you walk in.

After meeting Sunday, Kacee came over for the afternoon. We hooked up a sled to the four wheeler and had a blast! This was a first for my kids. Sledding is fun, but being whipped around corners is even better! This is the same four wheeler that whipped me around on sleds when I was young. I haven't done this since then, and my body made sure to remind me of that the next day!! But I can't wait til the next trip out so I can jump on the sled again! (Neither can the boys!)

Kacee and Max

                             

                Connor and I bit it.

    Dad gleefully pointing out another wipeout.

                           

                              Mom and Maggie watching the show from Grandpa's house.

                                       

The second we walked into our own house in Salt Lake, the boys both burst into tears. They wanted to go back to the farm!! They did NOT want to come home! Yesterday after I picked Connor up from school we pulled into the garage. He said, "Mom, we aren't home." I said "What do you mean? This is home!"
"No. This isn't the old house. The old house is our home. We need to go to the farm."

 Aw. :( Guess we need to get back home soon.