It is Sunday again and usually that means an extended blog with memories as I drink my FP with a bit of Baileys instead of heavy cream. Today I will add pictures that are out of my book.
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| The golf course that I designed and made where Arnie, Jack and Gary played many many Sundays. As I have said in the past Arnie always won! Lost balls were no problem as I would roll the 55 gallon barrel and with each bump I would pick up a ball. I think Dad was a bit upset as I used almost all of his old oil to kill weeds in the sand putting surface. |
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| With my pole, tackle box and can of worms I would walk through Bert's pasture, stroll through their yard and climb down the bank to fish. IF I happen to be lucky Eleanor would see me walk through the yard and offer me a cookie. After I had made a little jail for fish I would toss the bobber into the water and wait. Usually after a couple of hours and many dreams of the future I would open up the fish jail and let them go free to enjoy another day. Sometimes I would run the entire half mile home just because it was so much fun. It was easy because Bert's cow pasture was about as bare as a bone. |
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| I can still smell the pungent aroma of grass and weeds burning in the crisp fall air. Dave and I might pluck a hollow weed, light the end and pretend we were smoking! Of course that would be out of Dad's sight. |
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| With the kerosene lantern in one hand and the milk pail in the other I would trudge through the snow to the barn. As I entered the warmth from the cows would greet me and the soft chomp chomp of hay would fill my ears. Then I would retrieve the one legged milk stool and go about milking. Of course the beady eyes of the cats were always staring and begging for a squirt of milk in their mouth. When finished I would fill a shallow bowl with warm milk and the cats would converge from all corners of the barn. Then it was back to the house where milk was poured into the separator and would then become milk and heavy cream that, of course, was so superior to the Land O Lakes cream of today. In the summer I might go all the way to the barn and back on my pogo stick but with no milk pail of course. |
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| The old cast iron cook stove was an icon of the kitchen. Burning coal or corn cobs or just wood it would heat the kitchen toasty warm while we fried sliced potatoes in homemade butter while playing ping pong on the round table. Somehow it just did not seem right when the old went out and the propane stove came in. I would say "No class". |
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| After years and years of seeing that old cement foundation of the old hog barn to the west of the house one summer was the perfect time to pound, clean and drag cement boulders to the rock pile. It was perhaps one of my favorite accomplishments when it was finished as Mom was so so pleased. |
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| California boxes of used clothes came from Aunt Ragna. I would rummage through them hoping to find a pair of socks that fit and ones that I did not have to fold over at the toe which made me feel like I was walking up hill! Come to think of it maybe that is why I have a big hamstring as the Dr. stated!!! One of my all time favorite shirts came from CA. It was light blue with dark blue stripes across the front and I thought I was pretty darn hot when I wore it in HS. One day in study hall I squeezed between a desk and an open window and RIP the entire back of my shirt was wide open! After returning my face back to a normal color Mr. Woler gave me the keys to his office so I could go get a sweat shirt to put on. |
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