Memories

I love going home for Christmas. My parents are retired now and offered to come to my house 2 states away. I immediately put a hault to those plans. You see, for me, going home doesn't mean just visiting my parents. It means a vacation. A place to escape my normal life and go back in time to where I grew up. I get to see the same stop sign at the same intersection. I get to see the same family town grocery store that's filled with the aroma of the butcher shop in the back.

___________________________________________________

Missouri River at Mobridge, SD. I remember the water being up past the dirt road.

___________________________________________________

Life is different on the prairie. At least where I grew up. It's a town of 400 people where everybody really does know your name. Where people know where you're going and they know what's wrong when you don't show up to work or school the next day.

___________________________________________________

Small storm cloud over the prairie.

___________________________________________________

It's also a town where everyone looks out for everyone else. A young mother passed away a few years ago, leaving behind a few kids and a distraught husband on a farm. Those that could, helped out on the farm feeding the cattle and doing normal farm chores. Those that couldn't brought meals to the kids and father. It's just what they do.

___________________________________________________

Pile of junk at the back of the acre on my parents land. As a kid, we use to build forts and play with this stuff.

___________________________________________________

It's a farm community where everyone waves at you when you drive by, whether they know you or not.  It's just what they do. It's not what they're sopose to do, but what they just do.

___________________________________________________

This tree has been there since I was a young child. There's a small stock dam (pond) right by the tree we'd use to go ice skating on.

___________________________________________________

 

When I go home, I get back to my roots. I start waving again. And on my drive back to Wisconsin, I count how many cars I can get to wave back at me. It's unfortunate that I can count on my fingers how many people wave back.

___________________________________________________

I planted this tree in the 3rd grade when I won it for a poster drawing contest for Arbor day. It's huge now! Amazing how time flies like this.

___________________________________________________

I love going home. I love that the few businesses shut down after 5:30 and if you don't have your groceries for your Sunday dinner, by Saturday at 6, you'll have to travel to the next closest town 45 miles away.

___________________________________________________

 

Fence on the way into town.

___________________________________________________

I can't say it's serene. Or peaceful. Or God's vacation spot. Heck, it's even been 18 yrs since I've lived there. Yes. Houses have changed. People have moved. Cell phone towers have found their way to the dead spots. But I still love going home to 'live' on the prairie for a week. Where stars are in abundance and the Northern Lights dance on the horizon. Hoot owls sit on top of your light pole and wake you up in the middle of the night. And where the lul of the sheep can be heard in the distance.

___________________________________________________

Sunset overlooking Flat Creek: on my dad's homestead property.

___________________________________________________

“The happiest people don’t have the best of everything, they just make the best of everything they have.”

♥ Happy Blessings! ♥

___________________________________________________

My father and my son walking on the homestead looking for rocks.