When anyone says "Grandma and Grandpa's House", I picture the farm. Little yellow house with a small white porch. Cream colored chiffon curtains hanging in the front window, shaded by the giant tree that drops rose bud pine cones in the front yard. Small fish pond and a gravel drive way. This is what comes to my mind. It's the only home I ever knew for them. It looks different now, older, empty, worn down. But when they first moved there it looked even more different than what I remember from growing up.
Situated on three acres of land the farm was a wonderful transition from city life they had known. They'd lived in the city of Stockton since Grandpa got home from the war. They were in a few different houses over those eleven years, but finally when Don hit high school they realized it was not where they wanted to be any more. They moved 15 miles out of town into a two bedroom house. There was a barn, a one car garage, as well as other small buildings for farm animals. I wonder if Grandpa and Grandma felt free again? They both grew up on farms, working the land and enjoying a slower pace of life. I wonder if even three acres felt more like "home" than they'd felt in a long time.
My dad said the place felt large to them; but it's hard to imagine a two bedroom home for six people feeling large! The kids spent that entire first summer exploring their property and the neighborhood around them. Grandpa set to work making many improvements over the years, adding a third bedroom, an over sized two car garage, back patio and laundry room. It was hard work to keep up with the land and the animals that they acquired, but Grandma and Grandpa had never been afraid of hard work and enjoyed the labor of love in maintaining their property.
One of my favorite stories as a kid was hearing my dad tell of some of his first impressions of the house. Want to know what I remember most? I remember my dad telling me that everything in the house was painted either pink or green. The prior owners must have had a preoccupation with the two colors or maybe they got them on sale at the hardware store, because every room was decked out in the pink and green combo! I always laughed when he got to that part of the story.
There were so many memories made in that home. I'm excited to share with you some of them in the coming days.
I believe there are seasons to life. Seasons of sorrow, and pain. Seasons of joy and of laughter. Seasons of toil and seasons of harvest.
I truly believe moving to the farm was a great season for my Grandparents.