This is what’s left of my Grandparents farm. You can faintly see the driveway but is rather overgrown. The tarpaper house, barn, summer kitchen, garden, garage, shed covered with license plates, chicken coop and outhouse are all gone now.
The memories remain.
How excited I would be after the long drive to finally turn onto that long drive and see the lights in the house welcoming us.
The house was nothing fancy but oh what love was inside! The front door was a wooden screen door on a spring. If I close my eyes I can still hear the creaking sound it made when it opened or closed. I tried to recreate for my home but just couldn’t quite get that sound right.
The house was small and heated by a wood burning stove that Grandma used to cook the best meals. There was nothing better than a bowl of Grandma’s homemade noodle soup. I remember watching her cut the noodles so fast and wondering how she didn’t cut herself.
The kitchen and dining room were just one big room and there was always room for one more person at the table.
The living room wasn’t a big room but we could all squeeze in. The floor was linoleum and at the family gathering the peanut and sunflower seed shells were three inches thick. At the end of the gathering the floor was swept up and it was all good as new…well perhaps not new but good as before.
Grandma and Grandpa’s bedroom was a small room. Just enough for a small closet a double bed and a dresser. The door was a curtain that separated it from the living room.
The lights were coal oil. They didn’t get electricity till late 70’s. I remember looking at the newly installed bare bulb electric lights and thinking how odd they looked in that house.
When we went for a weekend visit Grandma would face two arm chairs and tie them together. That would be my bed in the living room. Mom and Dad slept on the hide-a-bed. My five siblings slept on big quilts in the corner of the dining room.
I remember drifting off to sleep in my chair-bed listening to my parents and Grandparents sitting at the table talking.
Early in the morning Grandpa would head out to do the chores. Grandma would light the wood stove to heat up the house and put a big pot of coffee on. When Grandpa got back from his chores we would all have breakfast.
The bathroom was on the other side of the summer kitchen. A bit of a long walk in the dark so they had a ‘proper’ nighttime bathroom in the house which Grandpa would have to empty in the morning.
The only place in the house I hated was the cellar. Nothing more than a dirt floor hole that smelled musty. But it was filled with canned fruit, vegetables and jams from the huge garden.
Grandpa was a farmer. He spoke softly but we heard him loud and clear. Oh how he could get Grandma worked up with a bit of teasing. He was one of the greatest men I have ever known.
Oh what memories.
I’m a little rusty so the following words may not be quite accurate but I hope the sentiment shines through.
Grossepapa unt Grossemama. Ye zandt in meine hoat fa jeemols!