I have two picture posts to share with you. One, is a monster post (again, sorry) about the stuff OUTSIDE the farmhouse. It will be worth the wait. I promise you. The other is a detail of that funny violin I found. Stay tuned for that...bated breath: Optional.
First, I'd like to review two things:
I met an author from MN named Jonathan Friesen. He signed his book for me and I couldn't wait to read it. I normally don't like fiction all that much, but I enjoy young adult stuff that I can let my own kids read. Seeing as how he homeschools his kids and knew Katrina a little, and recommended SHE read it, I figured it would be appropriate.
Boy, was I right! It was tremendous! The author suffers from Tourette's Syndrome and he writes a totally fictional story about a boy with TS also. He draws from his experience of course, but it's an amazing story (in first person...not my favorite format...but here it somehow worked) about a boy on a quest to find out who he really is. It's a struggle for identity (since he's been told from a boy that his real father was an a-hole and his step father even changed his name). I don't want to give anything away so I won't go into it all that much, but I do have some criticisms of it. Some of the dialect he used was true to MN, but some "sounded" to me to be a little more Southern. Other than that, it's a good page turner (read it in three days, even while cooking) and it kind of leaves you wanting some sort of sequel. It could almost be perfectly adapted to the screen, right from the pages of the book.
OKEYDOKEY, THEN:
Now, on to my second review (this one for The Catholic Company).
I chose the book Hear My Voice.
When I saw it on the choice page, I thought it looked familiar and then, when I got it, I remembered where I had seen it before. I think the author (or maybe the publisher?) had found my blog and had asked me to review it before it went out. I saw the sample pages and offered my opinion at the time. The (author?) person who contacted me thanked me for my review but ignored my suggestions (big whoop, what the heck do I know, anyway?) and I guess went on to publish it and now the Catholic Company offered it for review...
Anyway, it's taken me a long time to review this one because it's not REALLY a book at all. It's more like a weekly devotional because it's a two page layout with an illustration on one side, a chldren's interpretation of the Gospel for Sunday on the other, and the true Gospel excerpt from the Lectionary for Mass for Use...in the U.S.A in a little box alongside the children's version.
It's a guide for parents to read to their children before and/or after Mass to help them to understand what the Gospel is about.
Before it begins, there's a preface and a chart that shows the Church calendar. It's a handy little chart that is color co-ordinated and with dates for 2008-2009 which, I assume, means a book like this would/might come out for every year?
I will quote the preface (then offer my opinions):
"The intent of this book is to help parents and educators bring Jesus' message to children in a way that will include them more fully in the weekly Mass. This book does not try to change the gospel stories to be stylish or impose the latest slang onto them...
The illustrations depict children in the time and geography of Jesus Christ's life They portray the gospel readings in a form that invites children to ponder and take a child's time to find meaning..."
You get the idea.
I really like this whole idea. It's also nice that it's a hard cover and not a "missalette"-type of book. It's solid, and well put together. The problem with it is in the children's translations. I had critiqued the author that I believed that some of the language used in the excerpts WAS slang and sounded false to my kid's ears (THEIR opinion, not from me). The kids were also a little bit creeped out by the illustrations. They are quite strange, in my opinion. You'd have to see them to believe them but they look like a bunch of unsmiling, white mini-dress wearing matching sandals, zombied expressions (same eyes, same Mona-Lisa smile). I also had a hard time picking out the "Jesus" character because they all looked the same (with the occasional long hair for a girl). The cover is very confusing because it'd sort of a depiction of the last supper and only 13 people are pictured but it looks like one is maybe Mary? Upon further reflection, it looks like Jesus is the one with the goiter? In every picture, he's got a funny tumor on his neck.
Get this book if you want a little Gospel reflection with your kids. Don't get it if you are allergic to thin sheets of paper pressed between two, press board pieces or slightly robotronic looking cartoons of people wearing mini-togas, or if you don't like phrases like:
"This was a lot for young Mary, and she said, "Look, I am just glad to be God's servant girl. Let this happen just how God wants."
(I had objections to the word "Look" because I (and the kids) thought it sounded petulant or sassy. The author(?) explained to me that it is meant for "behold" but to me, it did sound sassy.)
There ya go! Do with it what you will.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
OH! So THAT'S why that happens....
Another thing to add to the list of "stuff I didn't USED to know, but now that info comes in handy"
...Oh yes, I'm there.
...Oh yes, I'm there.
Spring Training?
Here is an excerpt from my marathon training blog...
Yeah, except there's really no "spring" to speak of.
We get one nice day, here and there, and then it's back to reality. I have this theory where the weather here is actually the result of another mini-ice-age and that, eventually, we'll have less and less warm days, more and more cold days, and the warm days will shrink to about 4 days of 90 degree weather and the rest will be like Siberia in the winter. It will be a frozen tundra and the glaciers will creep down into Minnesota and we'll have to learn to switch over to snowmobile sleds on our cars instead of wheels. No? It's a working theory. I have about about three or four more decades of data to gather.
Training is going really well. I'm skipping a lot more than I did last year with the half marathon but I think it feels pretty good. I've been skipping only about one day a week (other than the "off" day on the schedule). I think it's good for my muscles to recover and it feels so much better to run the day after a break. I am noticing the long runs don't really wear me out a ALL anymore. I have teeny aches and pains, but nothing that's debilitating or what I would call an "injury"...
If you want to read more, head on over to that blog
If you've already been invited OR you could just send me an email or comment that you want to be invited (I need your email addy). It's not that thrilling, but some people have asked me "how's the training going" and this is your chance to read all about how much I whine about the weather, aches and pains, and brag about how many miles I can run even though I'm a lumpy, lazy, mother of 6.
Oooooo, tempting, isn't it?
Yeah, except there's really no "spring" to speak of.
We get one nice day, here and there, and then it's back to reality. I have this theory where the weather here is actually the result of another mini-ice-age and that, eventually, we'll have less and less warm days, more and more cold days, and the warm days will shrink to about 4 days of 90 degree weather and the rest will be like Siberia in the winter. It will be a frozen tundra and the glaciers will creep down into Minnesota and we'll have to learn to switch over to snowmobile sleds on our cars instead of wheels. No? It's a working theory. I have about about three or four more decades of data to gather.
Training is going really well. I'm skipping a lot more than I did last year with the half marathon but I think it feels pretty good. I've been skipping only about one day a week (other than the "off" day on the schedule). I think it's good for my muscles to recover and it feels so much better to run the day after a break. I am noticing the long runs don't really wear me out a ALL anymore. I have teeny aches and pains, but nothing that's debilitating or what I would call an "injury"...
If you want to read more, head on over to that blog
If you've already been invited OR you could just send me an email or comment that you want to be invited (I need your email addy). It's not that thrilling, but some people have asked me "how's the training going" and this is your chance to read all about how much I whine about the weather, aches and pains, and brag about how many miles I can run even though I'm a lumpy, lazy, mother of 6.
Oooooo, tempting, isn't it?
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Earth Par-taaayyyyy
Simply switch on all of your lights from 8:30-9:30pm, revel in the fact that we are a modern society with amazing technical advancements, find all the songs with the word "light" in them, and boogie your socks off!
OR, you could go out, leave the kids with the babysitter (to have that party mentioned in paragraph one of this post), and you could turn off the lights in your CAR and go necking with your luvah (I might choose THIS one, but I think I'll leave the car running because I just love me some gas-oh-leeeeeen).
OR, you could be a sissy, pansy, whiner who worships Earth Mother, or Wind Brother, or Father Mountain or whatevertheheck, and you could sit in the dark house and sing kumbya like a danged hippie. Also, when you feel all warm and snuggly about yourself and the GREAT CONTRIBUTION you've made to making the world a better place (and as soon as the chill sets in if you live in the North...'cause it will...eventually...set in...'cause you know it's getting colder because of global warming!), you could go find a really nice cave, wear fig leaves and root around for berries and twigs to eat for the rest of your life, since that will be the only happy place for you in this greedy, selfish world that actually USES the gifts God gave us to have dominion over.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT
Video H/T: Michelle Malkin
OR, you could go out, leave the kids with the babysitter (to have that party mentioned in paragraph one of this post), and you could turn off the lights in your CAR and go necking with your luvah (I might choose THIS one, but I think I'll leave the car running because I just love me some gas-oh-leeeeeen).
OR, you could be a sissy, pansy, whiner who worships Earth Mother, or Wind Brother, or Father Mountain or whatevertheheck, and you could sit in the dark house and sing kumbya like a danged hippie. Also, when you feel all warm and snuggly about yourself and the GREAT CONTRIBUTION you've made to making the world a better place (and as soon as the chill sets in if you live in the North...'cause it will...eventually...set in...'cause you know it's getting colder because of global warming!), you could go find a really nice cave, wear fig leaves and root around for berries and twigs to eat for the rest of your life, since that will be the only happy place for you in this greedy, selfish world that actually USES the gifts God gave us to have dominion over.
THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT
Video H/T: Michelle Malkin
15 Minutes That Could Save a Life
Okay, it might not actually SAVE your life, but it will improve it. I guarantee you that! The most recent podcast inspired Trine to recall a story that you might be interested in reading (in the comments). Deacon Tim has a lovely story at the end about Senator Santorum and how God works in mysterious and wonderful ways.
Please visit Cyndi and Deacon Tim. It is only a 15 minute chat about life out here in the Catholic trenches. They are humble, decent people that really live their faith and hope to reach out to others out there who might sometimes feel like they are the only ones wrestling with matters of faith. Even if you are not Catholic, their chats will be relevant to you (and maybe help you to understand your Catholic brothers and sisters)!
PLUS, the extrasuperspecial bonus is that Cyndi has just the cutest voice. I wish she'd narrate one of those books on tape. Maybe some sort of historical romance novel or something about old-timey women of the West? I don't know but I love her soft, Okie accent!
Please visit Cyndi and Deacon Tim. It is only a 15 minute chat about life out here in the Catholic trenches. They are humble, decent people that really live their faith and hope to reach out to others out there who might sometimes feel like they are the only ones wrestling with matters of faith. Even if you are not Catholic, their chats will be relevant to you (and maybe help you to understand your Catholic brothers and sisters)!
PLUS, the extrasuperspecial bonus is that Cyndi has just the cutest voice. I wish she'd narrate one of those books on tape. Maybe some sort of historical romance novel or something about old-timey women of the West? I don't know but I love her soft, Okie accent!
Friday, March 27, 2009
Morning Distractions
I shouldn't a done it. I shouldn't have turned on Foxnews this morning and stayed tuned for the TOTUS' little update on how tough he's going to be in Afghanistan and Pahk-i-stahn. BUT, I did it because it IS Lent and I need to expose myself to more sacrifices.
Was I the only one who was distracted by the former first lady's looking from left to right at the teleprompters and reading along with Obama? She looked so dang dorky and clueless...almost as much so as Obama.
Also, why does he constantly tell us "what I WANT to do is..." and "I want to be clear,..."? Check back. He does it IN EVERY SPEECH! Sometimes, he does it multiple times. It's almost as annoying as the dang "thumb press" or the "sideways palm chop". He can't look the people of the U.S.A in the eye because he's so intent on the words of his teleprompter. That is a weird affectation of speech that I think I will get VERY tired of for the next four years.
Was I the only one who was distracted by the former first lady's looking from left to right at the teleprompters and reading along with Obama? She looked so dang dorky and clueless...almost as much so as Obama.
Also, why does he constantly tell us "what I WANT to do is..." and "I want to be clear,..."? Check back. He does it IN EVERY SPEECH! Sometimes, he does it multiple times. It's almost as annoying as the dang "thumb press" or the "sideways palm chop". He can't look the people of the U.S.A in the eye because he's so intent on the words of his teleprompter. That is a weird affectation of speech that I think I will get VERY tired of for the next four years.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tommywalker, Tommywalker, Walkin' on the Floor
This video was taken a couple of days ago when he first figured out how to walk more than two steps. After that, he just took off and today, he's figured out how to get up, unassisted, from the middle of the floor and start walking.
I hate it. I love it.
Watching him walk from behind is a gigglefest, I tell you. His feet are all duck-like and go "slap slap" on the floor as he toddles from side to side. His chubbo little arms are practically raised above his head for balance. He looks like a little letter "X" with a head. Oh geez, how much more can a mother take?
I hate it. I love it.
Watching him walk from behind is a gigglefest, I tell you. His feet are all duck-like and go "slap slap" on the floor as he toddles from side to side. His chubbo little arms are practically raised above his head for balance. He looks like a little letter "X" with a head. Oh geez, how much more can a mother take?
Friday, March 20, 2009
Last Days of the Homestead
The Big Story
I am the daughter of a man named John. He is the son of a man named Rudolph. Rudolph was the son of a man named Alexander. Mom and Dad have a photo of Alexander in the basement, above the mantle. It always kind of creeped me out. His wife was even a little bit creepier. I kind of look like those people though, so I wonder what that says about me?
Anyway, they all grew up and lived in what shall from now on be called "the farmhouse". It was set back from the main street of town by a large meadow. It was one of the only remaining running farms "in town" and is sort of an iconic landmark in our small hometown. I remember growing up that the population sign read "1514" wayyyy back when. I'm sure it's much more than that now as most of the farms have been turned into developments.
The farmhouse was the meeting place of all of the cousins (my dad has 5 siblings who all, except the aunt who is a nun, had at least 5 children) and we were the youngest of all of them. Most of our time there when we were visiting was spent up in the "play room" which was never really a bedroom but more like a guest room. It had no closet and a tiny bathroom (toilet and sink). It had a linoleum tile floor and was always cold but it stored a bunch of games that we would take to different parts of the house and play when we had a family get together. The upstairs had four bedrooms (one was that playroom) and up from that, if you dared or were allowed to, you could get to the attic. That attic was CLASSIC. It kept the stored remains of EVERYTHING that couldn't be used or displayed from more than 100 years, I'm sure. Every time one of us kids were allowed to go up there for something, we were shrieked at by Grandma Laura "Be careful! You could fall through the ceiling!!!" It was partially safe by boards and planks that were put across the beams but if you had a misstep (which one of the cousins did, according to family lore...not really sure if that one was true or not) you would end up with your foot in one of the four bedrooms.
My grandma moved from there to a nearby senior cottage years ago and various cousins have lived there on and off over the years. The farm was worked or used for storage by the uncles for years until that got old. None of the cousins had the money or the interest in keeping the farm or the land around it (taxes are huge) so the uncles sold it for development a few years ago. We all have very strong, sentimental attachment for the farm. I got to live there one year, about six years ago, we sold our home before this house was finished being built, so we lived at the farmhouse for the summer. The kids were excited about their new home (only three of them at that time!) but were sad that we couldn't live in the farmhouse anymore. I loved taking care of it and mowing the meadow. I even planted a garden in Grandpa's old garden plot and felt a little like he was maybe proud of me for carrying on that tradition. I'm not as good of a gardener as he was, but it was a very nice way to teach the kids about that sort of thing. We loved being so close to everything in town. We could run and walk around, explore every day, find cool things all around the farm grounds (lots of old barns). I felt very close to my roots at that time. I even had a giant picnic with all the aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings, just like old times. Grandma Laura came too, but by that time, she was not really aware that she was back at the farmhouse and that was pretty sad. It's almost as if, after Grandma died, the family didn't have their heart in taking care of the farmhouse anymore. It is shrivelling up and turning to dust with no one taking care of it, and no one living in it. A house has to be lived in to exist. Without any care, they fall apart pretty fast. That old house has some great bones and I've always thought that (with about 100,000 bucks) it would make a fabulous museum or maybe a cool bed and breakfast or, at least, a really great home for a big family like mine!
Well, it got sold and there is now going to be a road going through the property (they are turning it into a multi-lane road). The city has already bought and taken down a whole lot of houses in town to do this but the farmhouse hasn't really been messed with yet. All of the outbuildings are still just sitting there too. The kids have been BEGGING me to take them to explore one last time but the driveway is dirt, long, and had been covered by snow and my rear wheel drive van couldn't make that trek so I've put them off. One day last month, Mom said that the uncles said that the deal was that we had just a few more days to get in there and take what we wanted before the property went to the bank or whatever so I ran over with my camera, thinking that at least I could get some good pictures of some junk to help my memories.
It was mostly depressing. Last summer, I helped the aunts and uncles get stuff down from the attic and they sorted through most everything of value. The rest of the sentimental stuff just kind of got noted then left behind. There was a lot that was just too weathered and beat up to even be desired by anyone. I thought it was all very interesting but I liked holding on to the memories of what that house and all of it's things represented to me.
I haven't taken any pictures or any things from the outbuildings because I want to get my kids in on that excursion but this was all stuff left behind (that will probably be destroyed or discarded...it's been sitting a long time in an attic that had a broken, partially opened window and the weather had free reign on it all those years!)
So, here are some pictures and I'll explain some of the stuff to you so you can remember with me:
Here is my pile of stuff that I got together after digging around. The baby crib was supposedly my dad's. I thought about keeping it and fixing it up but I didn't know what kind of paint it had on it and it was pretty rickety and wobbly. It looks cute in the picture but it was just more than I have time for right now. The white chair was nice and sturdy but I couldn't haul it when it was so snowy outside so I might go back for it. I thought it would look cute on the porch. The suitcase was my aunt's and I did salvage that. It makes a great storage box and was in very good shape.
This was an old calculator that I think might have been used to figure out the farm's finances. I think I recall coming into the farmhouse kitchen when my aunts and uncles were doing the figuring one time. That struck me as odd at the time. It really was a business and I think that was the first time I realized that. I had always sort of thought of it all as a lot of work, or maybe a really fun hobby (I liked riding in the tractor with Grandpa) but I hadn't ever been a part or known about the financial aspects of it all.
I don't know why I took a picture of this, it was very dark up in the attic and I had to take pictures of things with my flash just to see into the corners for a second. I think it's because it was kind of an older looking flashlight from The Corner Bar that I thought was cool.
This is one of the corners of the attic. The whole thing was completely open with a stairway near the chimney near the back of it. If a person had a lot of moolah, they could turn that attic into a really cool extra room. It's HUGE! The chimney is very strange as it's on a slant. The attic structure is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's amazing how it even held up all those years.
Here is a shot of the floor with the missing spots ("you'll fall through!") and parts of an old cabinet.
This old chair could have been pretty cool but it was missing too many parts. Why did they keep the thing anyway? I wonder why it didn't just get burned? That old trombone case didn't have anything in it. I checked.
This is my aunt's old prom dress (I think). Mom said she wanted it back but the girls are having way too much fun with it in their dress up box so unless she comes to get it, it's staying here hahaha!
Here is a wooden appliance box. Again, why did they put it in the attic? It must have been a beast to haul up there! They had plenty of room in the outbuildings...and the burn pile. They must have thought, "Hey, that's a good box right there...we could use it for something someday!" like everything else up there.
I happened upon this neato looking violin body. It was just laying there on the floor with nobody to love it so I brought it home thinking it might be cool looking in a spring display up on the ledge (where I decorate for the seasons, above my door in the entryway). I haven't gotten up there to take down Christmas yet...more on this later...
There must have been a lot of birds that have gotten trapped in this attic over the years. Most everything was covered in bird stuff. There is a whole pile of old, broken, bed and crib remains. I tried to get to the bottom of the pile but it was getting pretty creaky and precarious up there so I decided to save it for another day.
These windows face the front of the house and are partially open and broken.
I thought this box of kitchen implements was kind of interesting.
There were MANY old pictures and home decorating items both in frames, and broken out of them. Here is a picture of who I think is Pope Leo XIII?
It seems like every scrap of wood was kept. Some of it was kept in this old barrel. I think if I would have tried to move it, it would have crumpled up into a zillion pieces.
I thought this old door thingy looked like it could be used for a cool project...but I left it behind.
This is the giant pile that I was afraid to get too close to. I would have had to remove things piece by piece and I was interested in the stuff that was UNDER it, but I had no time and it was getting very cold up there.
There were a LOT of these. My grandpa smoked cigars and pipes. I'll never forget that smell. I'm pretty sure Heaven will smell like Grandpa.
I'm not sure if this was used by our family or if it was a later garage sale purchase and discarded by a cousin who lived there but it looked so pitiful and lonely up there.
I'm not sure who this spooky guy is.
He was even spookier in all of my other pictures.
That crutch that's leaning against that old TV was SO TALL! It must have been used for a giant. Most of the people in my family are pretty short but it might be fun to try and figure out who it was for.
Here is the stairway to DOOOOOOM. Just kidding, it's the stairs to the roof...at least I think it is (cue scary music...)
Hey! I remember this lamp! I always thought that if I rubbed it, a Geenie might come out of it.
Here are some pictures of stuff that got brought down from the attic last summer but were just left behind.
I found a lot of old newspaper in some old trunks. I took pictures of some of the funnier ads and articles. I don't know why some of these got my attention but I thought they were all so great!
(the entry to the attic stairs...boogedy boogedy boogedyyyyyy)
I call this one "Fr. Whatawaste". Seriously, he was super cute, wasn't he?
I found him along with Cardinal/Msgnr Spooky in this montage of young, collard men. Who were they? Why did my family have this picture?
"I thought I was going to die. I hadn't eaten for a week. I couldn't even smoke a cigarette!"...said the DOCTOR. Oh, horrors! She must have been VERY sick, indeed!
Hmmm, everything old is new again...
Well, it's getting late and I'm getting tired. I didn't caption all of the pictures because I'm getting too sad about them. Just look at the pictures of the kitchen but instead of a big pile of junk...imagine a bustling bunch of people joining Grandma and Grandpa for Sunday dinner, or a fun bunch of folks from their card club laughing and poking fun at each other. Imagine Grandpa sitting there, in a chair, next to the entry to the living room, putting on his boots to go out and do some work. He's got snowy white, beautiful hair that's slightly mussed up because he just ran his hand through it. He's got a pipe hanging from his mouth. He wiggles his bushy eyebrows up and down, alternately (I inherited that trick from him) at you and his big, giant ears wiggle at the same time. I say do it again, Grandpa and of course, he does. I am there all alone for a change and I ask where's Grandma. She's out getting some eggs he says. I say, okay, I love you Grandpa and he says, I love you too, Laurie. I think to myself. Wow, I always knew he loved his kids and grandkids but there's so many of them to remember just one. He knows my name! And, he loves ME!
I am the daughter of a man named John. He is the son of a man named Rudolph. Rudolph was the son of a man named Alexander. Mom and Dad have a photo of Alexander in the basement, above the mantle. It always kind of creeped me out. His wife was even a little bit creepier. I kind of look like those people though, so I wonder what that says about me?
Anyway, they all grew up and lived in what shall from now on be called "the farmhouse". It was set back from the main street of town by a large meadow. It was one of the only remaining running farms "in town" and is sort of an iconic landmark in our small hometown. I remember growing up that the population sign read "1514" wayyyy back when. I'm sure it's much more than that now as most of the farms have been turned into developments.
The farmhouse was the meeting place of all of the cousins (my dad has 5 siblings who all, except the aunt who is a nun, had at least 5 children) and we were the youngest of all of them. Most of our time there when we were visiting was spent up in the "play room" which was never really a bedroom but more like a guest room. It had no closet and a tiny bathroom (toilet and sink). It had a linoleum tile floor and was always cold but it stored a bunch of games that we would take to different parts of the house and play when we had a family get together. The upstairs had four bedrooms (one was that playroom) and up from that, if you dared or were allowed to, you could get to the attic. That attic was CLASSIC. It kept the stored remains of EVERYTHING that couldn't be used or displayed from more than 100 years, I'm sure. Every time one of us kids were allowed to go up there for something, we were shrieked at by Grandma Laura "Be careful! You could fall through the ceiling!!!" It was partially safe by boards and planks that were put across the beams but if you had a misstep (which one of the cousins did, according to family lore...not really sure if that one was true or not) you would end up with your foot in one of the four bedrooms.
My grandma moved from there to a nearby senior cottage years ago and various cousins have lived there on and off over the years. The farm was worked or used for storage by the uncles for years until that got old. None of the cousins had the money or the interest in keeping the farm or the land around it (taxes are huge) so the uncles sold it for development a few years ago. We all have very strong, sentimental attachment for the farm. I got to live there one year, about six years ago, we sold our home before this house was finished being built, so we lived at the farmhouse for the summer. The kids were excited about their new home (only three of them at that time!) but were sad that we couldn't live in the farmhouse anymore. I loved taking care of it and mowing the meadow. I even planted a garden in Grandpa's old garden plot and felt a little like he was maybe proud of me for carrying on that tradition. I'm not as good of a gardener as he was, but it was a very nice way to teach the kids about that sort of thing. We loved being so close to everything in town. We could run and walk around, explore every day, find cool things all around the farm grounds (lots of old barns). I felt very close to my roots at that time. I even had a giant picnic with all the aunts and uncles, cousins and siblings, just like old times. Grandma Laura came too, but by that time, she was not really aware that she was back at the farmhouse and that was pretty sad. It's almost as if, after Grandma died, the family didn't have their heart in taking care of the farmhouse anymore. It is shrivelling up and turning to dust with no one taking care of it, and no one living in it. A house has to be lived in to exist. Without any care, they fall apart pretty fast. That old house has some great bones and I've always thought that (with about 100,000 bucks) it would make a fabulous museum or maybe a cool bed and breakfast or, at least, a really great home for a big family like mine!
Well, it got sold and there is now going to be a road going through the property (they are turning it into a multi-lane road). The city has already bought and taken down a whole lot of houses in town to do this but the farmhouse hasn't really been messed with yet. All of the outbuildings are still just sitting there too. The kids have been BEGGING me to take them to explore one last time but the driveway is dirt, long, and had been covered by snow and my rear wheel drive van couldn't make that trek so I've put them off. One day last month, Mom said that the uncles said that the deal was that we had just a few more days to get in there and take what we wanted before the property went to the bank or whatever so I ran over with my camera, thinking that at least I could get some good pictures of some junk to help my memories.
It was mostly depressing. Last summer, I helped the aunts and uncles get stuff down from the attic and they sorted through most everything of value. The rest of the sentimental stuff just kind of got noted then left behind. There was a lot that was just too weathered and beat up to even be desired by anyone. I thought it was all very interesting but I liked holding on to the memories of what that house and all of it's things represented to me.
I haven't taken any pictures or any things from the outbuildings because I want to get my kids in on that excursion but this was all stuff left behind (that will probably be destroyed or discarded...it's been sitting a long time in an attic that had a broken, partially opened window and the weather had free reign on it all those years!)
So, here are some pictures and I'll explain some of the stuff to you so you can remember with me:
Here is my pile of stuff that I got together after digging around. The baby crib was supposedly my dad's. I thought about keeping it and fixing it up but I didn't know what kind of paint it had on it and it was pretty rickety and wobbly. It looks cute in the picture but it was just more than I have time for right now. The white chair was nice and sturdy but I couldn't haul it when it was so snowy outside so I might go back for it. I thought it would look cute on the porch. The suitcase was my aunt's and I did salvage that. It makes a great storage box and was in very good shape.
This was an old calculator that I think might have been used to figure out the farm's finances. I think I recall coming into the farmhouse kitchen when my aunts and uncles were doing the figuring one time. That struck me as odd at the time. It really was a business and I think that was the first time I realized that. I had always sort of thought of it all as a lot of work, or maybe a really fun hobby (I liked riding in the tractor with Grandpa) but I hadn't ever been a part or known about the financial aspects of it all.
I don't know why I took a picture of this, it was very dark up in the attic and I had to take pictures of things with my flash just to see into the corners for a second. I think it's because it was kind of an older looking flashlight from The Corner Bar that I thought was cool.
This is one of the corners of the attic. The whole thing was completely open with a stairway near the chimney near the back of it. If a person had a lot of moolah, they could turn that attic into a really cool extra room. It's HUGE! The chimney is very strange as it's on a slant. The attic structure is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's amazing how it even held up all those years.
Here is a shot of the floor with the missing spots ("you'll fall through!") and parts of an old cabinet.
This old chair could have been pretty cool but it was missing too many parts. Why did they keep the thing anyway? I wonder why it didn't just get burned? That old trombone case didn't have anything in it. I checked.
This is my aunt's old prom dress (I think). Mom said she wanted it back but the girls are having way too much fun with it in their dress up box so unless she comes to get it, it's staying here hahaha!
Here is a wooden appliance box. Again, why did they put it in the attic? It must have been a beast to haul up there! They had plenty of room in the outbuildings...and the burn pile. They must have thought, "Hey, that's a good box right there...we could use it for something someday!" like everything else up there.
I happened upon this neato looking violin body. It was just laying there on the floor with nobody to love it so I brought it home thinking it might be cool looking in a spring display up on the ledge (where I decorate for the seasons, above my door in the entryway). I haven't gotten up there to take down Christmas yet...more on this later...
There must have been a lot of birds that have gotten trapped in this attic over the years. Most everything was covered in bird stuff. There is a whole pile of old, broken, bed and crib remains. I tried to get to the bottom of the pile but it was getting pretty creaky and precarious up there so I decided to save it for another day.
These windows face the front of the house and are partially open and broken.
I thought this box of kitchen implements was kind of interesting.
There were MANY old pictures and home decorating items both in frames, and broken out of them. Here is a picture of who I think is Pope Leo XIII?
It seems like every scrap of wood was kept. Some of it was kept in this old barrel. I think if I would have tried to move it, it would have crumpled up into a zillion pieces.
I thought this old door thingy looked like it could be used for a cool project...but I left it behind.
This is the giant pile that I was afraid to get too close to. I would have had to remove things piece by piece and I was interested in the stuff that was UNDER it, but I had no time and it was getting very cold up there.
There were a LOT of these. My grandpa smoked cigars and pipes. I'll never forget that smell. I'm pretty sure Heaven will smell like Grandpa.
I'm not sure if this was used by our family or if it was a later garage sale purchase and discarded by a cousin who lived there but it looked so pitiful and lonely up there.
I'm not sure who this spooky guy is.
He was even spookier in all of my other pictures.
That crutch that's leaning against that old TV was SO TALL! It must have been used for a giant. Most of the people in my family are pretty short but it might be fun to try and figure out who it was for.
Here is the stairway to DOOOOOOM. Just kidding, it's the stairs to the roof...at least I think it is (cue scary music...)
Hey! I remember this lamp! I always thought that if I rubbed it, a Geenie might come out of it.
Here are some pictures of stuff that got brought down from the attic last summer but were just left behind.
I found a lot of old newspaper in some old trunks. I took pictures of some of the funnier ads and articles. I don't know why some of these got my attention but I thought they were all so great!
(the entry to the attic stairs...boogedy boogedy boogedyyyyyy)
I call this one "Fr. Whatawaste". Seriously, he was super cute, wasn't he?
I found him along with Cardinal/Msgnr Spooky in this montage of young, collard men. Who were they? Why did my family have this picture?
"I thought I was going to die. I hadn't eaten for a week. I couldn't even smoke a cigarette!"...said the DOCTOR. Oh, horrors! She must have been VERY sick, indeed!
Hmmm, everything old is new again...
Well, it's getting late and I'm getting tired. I didn't caption all of the pictures because I'm getting too sad about them. Just look at the pictures of the kitchen but instead of a big pile of junk...imagine a bustling bunch of people joining Grandma and Grandpa for Sunday dinner, or a fun bunch of folks from their card club laughing and poking fun at each other. Imagine Grandpa sitting there, in a chair, next to the entry to the living room, putting on his boots to go out and do some work. He's got snowy white, beautiful hair that's slightly mussed up because he just ran his hand through it. He's got a pipe hanging from his mouth. He wiggles his bushy eyebrows up and down, alternately (I inherited that trick from him) at you and his big, giant ears wiggle at the same time. I say do it again, Grandpa and of course, he does. I am there all alone for a change and I ask where's Grandma. She's out getting some eggs he says. I say, okay, I love you Grandpa and he says, I love you too, Laurie. I think to myself. Wow, I always knew he loved his kids and grandkids but there's so many of them to remember just one. He knows my name! And, he loves ME!
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