Memories from my childhood, spent on my grandparent's farm in Texas.
I recall walking into the house and seeking out the jars of pear preserves and wild mustang grape jelly that my
grandmother so lovingly prepared for our consumption.
The time that we spent there in the presence of family on that beautiful piece of land were absolutely magical. It was such a place of solace for us all.
I remember putting tiny paper parasols (like the ones that you put in cocktails) and sitting the bench swing with my grandmother waiting for the fairies to come enjoy them.
I remember sitting on the white picket fence with my sister and cousin counting the sun down.
I remember summers spent there with my mother and sister.
I remember mama chasing cows out of the front yard yelling and brandishing the American flag.
I remember rides in my grandfather's old army jeep, and countless hours spent driving the four-wheeler around the property.
I remember the smell and feeling of the old farm house.
I remember passing the days crafting pies of mud and china berries.
I remember following my uncle around as he did chores.
I remember Thanksgivings, Christmas, New Years, Easters, and Fourth of Julys where we all assembled there....
As my grandparents grew older it became harder to keep the farm up, and they had to let it go. I know that it left a space in the hearts of my family that can never be replaced, but my memory of those glorious days is long.
I think that is what drew me back to the country after living in the city for most of my life. I know that her experience will be different, but I want my daughter to experience some of the same things that I loved so much.
Well until next time...Thanks for reading...I have to go and call my Grandmother and get those recipes. :)
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