My grandniece has the opportunity to grow up in the country and to play in the same woods that I played in when I was a kid. I guess it wasn’t all play though. I remember walking with my dad along the fence lines on the weekends. I carried the bucket of tools while he checked and fixed the fences.
“No need for an expensive mechanic.”
Things my 2 year old threw mini temper tantrums about today:
- I made him walk down the stairs instead of carrying him when he woke up this morning.
- I handed him his cup of juice instead of letting him grab it off the counter.
- I made him put on shoes when playing outside.
- I wouldn’t let him choke (aka petting) his kitten.
- I wouldn’t let him play at the park before he ate.
- I wouldn’t let him hold my fresh cut flowers because he kept throwing them on the ground (see photo above).
- I offered him a bottle of water to drink.
- I wouldn’t hold his fruit cup while he ate it.
- I tried to move while he used me as a recliner while he ate said fruit cup.
- I wouldn’t let him eat crackers because I was cooking supper.
- I told him he was taking a bath.
“I’ve heard my husband’s stories of the big family picnics in the summertime. Kids playing out and about the homestead. Running through the fields with cousins, eating watermelon and corn-on-the-cob, giving obligatory hugs to grandparents, aunts, and uncles. But seeing their little house on top of the hill out on the North Dakota prairie this spring day, reminded me that our experiences (and memories) are much bigger and more important than the physical place itself.”
fishing from the boat
baiting my hook and casting my line
“I think one of the things I miss most about life today is not having a lot of interaction between generations. I miss visiting with my aunts and uncles, my cousins, and my grandparents who are no longer with us. If you have these relationships in your life, don’t take them for granted. I miss this. I cherish a Saturday afternoon coffee in a farmhouse kitchen.”
“On that day at the farm, it was near 100 degrees and Dad was always in long sleeves with a t-shirt underneath… when we finally sat down for a break, he was beet red… not tomato red. Ella and I sat on the ground by the bins and Dad sat on an old folding, canvas camp stool that we used in the 60s for family camping trips. He poured the piping hot coffee from the thermos for us, which I thought was kinda crazy, but it was tradition for them and was actually good with our homemade cookies. Suddenly, Dad disappeared from my left and I felt a terrible burning in my left foot! I yelped and kicked my shoe off, waving my foot about and then noticed that Dad was now on the ground in an awkward, crooked sitting position with a shocked look on his face like he didn’t know if he should cus or laugh…. the old canvas had split right down the middle and Dad went down and his coffee went up (and then down on my foot). And the three of us, just exhausted from hours of work, melted into hysterics… oh what a wonderful day. It can never be repeated, but then it could never be as good anyway. We all slept like babies that night.”