There is no other place on earth that I love more than my grandparents' farm. With both of my parents working full-time jobs when I was growing up, I spent a lot of time on Acorn Hill running barefoot through the grass, helping pull the clothes off the line, sitting on the front porch swing singing songs with Grandma as she drank her coffee in the mornings, jumping up in the back of Granddaddy's old pick-up, pulling what looked like enormous green beans from the large tree growing right beside the house, and racing across the field to house next door to give my great-grandma her mail or see her feed the chickens or even have a little caramel popcorn on her front porch. In the summer time, I'd eat tomato sandwiches from the garden one after the other, help snap green beans, or sit on the carport drinking sweet tea from a Mason jar. During the school year, I'd ride the bus down the gravel road to their house and hike up the driveway to Grandma who always seemed to be anticipating my arrival. I'd open a can of Chicken Noodle soup for a snack before I started my homework, watch a little TV, or maybe just unload the stress of the day to her.
As I got older and could stay home alone, the time spent at my grandparents' got less frequent, especially with the new activities I was involved with at school. However, when I finally got my license, the first place I set my wheels was straight up that stretch of highway to their house. And, when I left for college, I felt desperate and home sick at times to get back, even for a few hours, to the solace of that farm. I may have made more weekend visits home the ninety percent of the college freshmen that first year as a result.
With as much love as I have for that place, since I've had kids, for one reason or another I haven't visited much. Part of it is that it is hard to load them up and drive almost a half hour there, juggling nap schedules and meal times. Partly it is because Grandma is a collector of beautiful decorations and knick knacks and it is a feat to keep little hands from touching things they shouldn't. But mostly I guess is because both my grandparents' world and mine have become so busy with doctor appointments, church activities, and so many other things pulling for our attention.
This summer though, I tried to make it a point to let my kids experience some of those country blessings because I think it's important that they have a piece of that heritage. So, one early July day, when I finally found a time when we were all free, I took advantage of the opportunity to get my kids to the farm. Grandma, who was eager to have these miniature guests to love on, did not disappoint my expectations. Out to the garden they went - toes in the grass, hands in the dirt. Caleb was ecstatic for the chance to pull some cucumbers off the vine and Hadley was pleased as could be that Grandma rendered her her own cucumber to cling to as she traipsed through the yard.
Love that barefooted country baby!
Not only do I remember getting things out of the garden as a kid, but many a memory was made riding through the cow fields in my granddad's old blue farm truck. While the blue one is gone and a red one has replaced it, he's still toting grandkids around to "check the cows." (And, of course, we all still love it!) Truth be told, I think growing up I was more excited for the adventure of riding along and to be going some place with him than I was to see the actual animals. I wish I had the energy to bring my kids to visit more often so they could experience this type of fun on a daily basis the way I did when I was little, but sometimes not doing it so often makes it all the more exciting when you get the chance. As we pulled alongside the polled hereford cattle, Caleb was stretching to get a good look while Hadley said, "woo, woo" in attempt to mimic the cow sounds we were imitating.
After such a wonderful experience that first trip, I was longing to take the kids back soon. Thankfully, a few weeks later we found a few free hours one Sunday evening and thought hanging out on the farm would be a great family activity for the afternoon. This time Daddy came with us which made it even better and easier to keep up with everyone. The kids played in the house for a while, and then, at Caleb's request, Grandma led them back out to the garden to find more cucumbers ready for picking.
Hadley was mostly interested in finding big clods of dirt and collecting them in her bucket. Dirt is more fun than vegetables I guess.
Grandma asked if Caleb a few times if he liked eating cucumbers. In response, he made it very clear that he liked picking them not eating them. He's also let me know that he doesn't like squash, though I did trick him into eating fried squash the other day until his father told him what is was. (shaking head)
Whether they liked the vegetables or not, they certainly enjoyed romping in the garden and filling those buckets.
Once again playing in the dirt was followed by another ride back on the hill to find the cattle. What kid can resist hunting down cows in a rusty pick-up, right? Both of these two were eager to go for a ride and spot as many bovine as they could.
There's just no better place I know. :)
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