Country Roads Take Me Home...

I spent the weekend with my best friend, my mother!  We created new memories while talking and laughing about the good old days.  It was a bit of an exploration into why I am who I am - what made me the kind of person I am today.

I've always known we didn't have much when I was little, but it never mattered to me.  We lived in a tiny house (I still love tiny houses) way out in the country.  We had land, a huge garden, an awesome tree swing, pigs and cows for neighbors, a million cats and lots of love.  Back then, my folks were hippies - bonafide.  We listened to a lot of music, danced, had parties and played outside all of the time.

I really enjoyed hearing my mom retell many of my favorite childhood stories this past weekend... so much so, that I asked her to dig a few photos out that I could share here.  I don't have a photo for every story, but that's okay... the camera in my mind has captured the memories better than a photo could ever convey.

I had a lot of farm cats.  They started out multi-colored, but eventually they were all born white.  Why would that be?  I don't know if any of there were officially ours, of if they were all strays that took a liking to our spot - but, I know I enjoyed always having little playmates.  I was an only child back then.  My brother is considerably younger than me.

Here is a photo of my uncle Steve, my daddy, our wolf-dog Bucky and myself.  Just a portion of our garden is shown here.  Mom reminded me this past weekend that we used to sell the sweet corn that we grew out of the trunk of our Monte Carlo at the Iowa City Farmers Market in the summers.  What I remember most were the thousands upon thousands of brightly colored, giant zinnias that we grew.  I loved those gorgeous flowers.  I also remember my mom picking Kohlrabi out of the garden and eating it raw.

This is my goat.  I don't think he had a name.  I remember he used to stand on top of our dog house and that he used to eat everything in site.  I think he was a birthday present from my maternal grandfather.

Here I am with my aunt Robin, who was the Matron of Honor in my wedding, Buckey and the goat.  Not long after this photo was taken, the goat went missing.  We sort of think Buckey ate him... he was, after all, a wolf dog.  How could he resist?

One winter, we had a horrible blizzard.  We were snowed in for days, and when we finally got out, we had to stay with my grandparents for awhile.  By the time we got back to our house, all of the pipes were frozen and of course, our only toilet cracked and broken... so, for a time we used it for empty cans.  After that we planted flowers in it.

There are a few more stories that I think about fondly.

My dad always laughs when he retells the story of me walking down our little dirt road with a huge bull following me.  I was saying "Dad, look at this cow!"... and of course, it wasn't just a cow :)

This is quite possibly my favorite:  My mom was about 8 months pregnant with my brother and I was home with her.  My dad was at work, so it was just us girls.  One of us looked out the window and saw a bunch of pigs running into our yard.  There wasn't much we could do, but my very pregnant mama grabbed a broom and chased after them.  They got into the garden and started digging up our potatoes.  Somehow in the chaos we got ahold of my dad on the phone and he called the farmers to come get their pigs.  I can't remember how much damage was done... but it is a good, gosh-darn funny memory.

My mama always loves to sing, and she's funny when she sings, but endearing at the same time.  I know it's not about rural Iowa, but whenever I hear "Country roads take me home to the place that I belong", I hear it in my mom's voice and I think of our little house, our little life... a simple time, a lovely time: My childhood.

Love you mom!

~*Nicole*~