An old lonely shed is the only building left on a property that once housed a multi-generational family farm operation.
On that property, this home once stood, surrounded by gardens full of good food, and roses and laughter. 
This man, the patriarch of our family, the main farmer, always took time for his grandkids. He loved us all whether we lived on the farm or not.
In this spot, as a child, I played long hours in the mud. The mud was cotton field run off, full of pesticides, but we didn't care. We were farm kids and mud was what we knew. Near this spot stood my first home, a lovely trailer.
Farm kids, they find fun wherever they can, and are always careful around large equipment.
In the nearby town someone lives in this trailer, my first home. My parents sold it in 1983 (I think) for the whopping sum of $5,000 which was all the money they had to make a move to South Dakota.
This was once my front door. Inside this home 3 children were brought home and loved. Inside this home is where I started life. In this, a most loving, family. 
1 comment:
Ahh the memories! Totally remember playing at your grandparents' home and farm. Me and Tiff used to catch ladybugs in the field. Then I'd freak out and squish them! You two look so cute.
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