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Wednesday, April 8, 2009

The old Homestead....

For years I have thought of the old farmhouse my husband and I lived in before moving here. It was always home to me. From the moment I moved in during the fall of '77 til the summer of '89. It seems as though I spent the best years of my life in that old house. Many of my friends said it was haunted and some did not want to visit it but if was haunted, whoever the spirits were, they wanted us there. (my friends and my mom claimed to have seen spirits it there. My mom felt they were friendly and was not afraid of them.)

Oh, I heard things while living there and there was one room I did not care for but I loved that house. I loved sitting out on the porch during the summer evenings, smelling the roses that bloomed profusely in the front yard. There was one rambling rose bush in the back yard that was well over a hundred years old. Yes, Mrs. M.. the lady who lived there before me loved her roses.
But I would sit on the swing and listen to music play softly and smell the roses while I worked on whatever project I had going with my needle work.

Sometimes I would hear a whip-poor-will of in the distance, calling softly. They are a very small bird that comes out mainly at night and are not often seen.

During the daylight we would hold picnics under the huge weeping willow tree that was in the back yard. We would build a huge campfire and gather around it with our friends and talk and tell all kinds of jokes while the kids played hide and seek in the barn. Sometimes I would sit outside and watch the neighboring farmer mow hay and nothing smells sweeter than new mown hay.

In the winter we were often snowed in but we never felt snowed in. We would get out and walk to the top of the hill for the school bus or mail. We just considered it out exercise for the day.

Yes, I had many fond memories of that place. That is why it saddened me to see it a few days ago. I actually wept when we drove back and I saw the empty shell of a house that really did look like the abandoned ghost house of all the movies I have seen. I wish I had not seen it in such disrepair.

It looks like a sad, lonely forgotten place.

Well, it is not forgotten. I still hold many great memories of that old house. I shall never forget it.


  1. Your memories will always be yours Garnet no matter how how run down the farm house was. It's a shame to see something you love go into disrepair but keep your memories in your heart:) Bernie

  2. My husband and I were saddened also at seeing the home we had when our children were very small. I was afraid it would taint my memories ...but it did not... Bernie is right...your memories will always be yours. Wanda

  3. Aw ... that's very touching. Nicely written.

  4. I realize you are right. My memories will always be fond ones of that place and time. Nothing can erase that.