Only, it’s not actually a farm. It used to be though. There’s an old milk shed and the stone foundation of a long-gone silo to prove it. But that was before my dad’s parents bought it. For them, it was a weekend house in the country. But, my grandfather did have my dad and his siblings plant a whole bunch of pines so they could learn about business and hard work by selling Christmas trees. So, I guess it is a farm after all. An overgrown Christmas tree one.
It’s also where I grew up. And where my dad still lives. I always thought it was such a fun place as a kid. When I got older I realized how wonderfully peaceful it is. It’s been fun introducing it to my kids. I’m remembering all over again how many fascinating adventures await outside the front door.
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