Little Girls and their Grandfathers...a Very Favorite Thing
I was a very lucky girl when I was growing up, because I got to spend a lot of time on my grandparents' farm in Indiana. I've written quite a bit about my grandmother and how her love of poetry has inspired this blog, but today's post is about my grandfather. He was a quiet man, but his eyes twinkled with good humor. He loved his family and his faith, and was respected for his character and his integrity.
When I was about three his good humor slipped a little the day he was working inside the corn crib and I locked him in. He asked me to let him out, but evidently I skipped off and went back to the farmhouse. After he freed himself (which took quite a while, and it was hot out and the corn crib was not a pleasant place to be trapped for a couple of hours) he came back to the house and asked why on earth I would do such a thing. I have no memory of this event, but evidently my answer was "I wanted to see what a monkey looked like in a zoo." Oops, wrong answer!
|My parents and grandparents and me, Christmas Eve 1960|
|Grandpa on a visit to South Dakota--check out my pink hat! What was I thinking?!|
Grandpa and I enjoyed fishing in the stock pond, walking around the farm, and watching As the World Turns right after lunch. We also checked out Lawrence Welk and Wagon Train after my Saturday night bubble baths. I loved to go on excursions with him, and I especially loved to ride in his truck to the local feed mill. When I was back in Indiana last September for my uncle's birthday celebration I drove out to Fairbanks and took a picture of the old feed mill. It's closed now, of course, and has seen better days, but I can remember sitting in the truck watching the men at work.
And best of all, after we were done at the mill, we always got strawberry ice cream cones. To this day, I always order strawberry, and every bite is filled with happy memories.
Have a wonderful weekend--I'm now off to Chicago! You can find other lovely favorite things here: