Ever have a moment, hear a song, smell a smell....and in a second you are taken back to a time, a place, a memory??
It happens. I try not to let it. Not because the memories are bad, but because they are so good.
As far as family and home go, I had the best growing up. I loved my life growing up in the country. I loved having horses, pigs, cats, dogs, deer, bugs, gardens, barbed wire fences to crawl under. I loved the smell in the old shed where we kept the barrel of oats and the saddles and bridles. I loved playing for hours out in the woods with my sister, and secretly loved pulling tansy and gathering firewood with my dad. Or was it the Snickers and "pop" I was rewarded with that I loved? Doesn't' really matter. It was perfect. We were together, happy.....and it was perfect.
Years go by, lives took different courses. While I treasure every second of my childhood, it is hard to let myself think about how 'perfect' things once were. Sure, my kids hear stories all the time about my life growing up. But they hear about these at home. The truth of the matter is that the tears are only a few blinks away, and it's not something I can talk about in public.
So, Saturday morning we were working in a territory that Brian checked out last week. I knew it was going to be difficult for me. We drove out to the Castle Rock Staging Area to park, and began the walk back up the road to the ranches. The smells and sounds hit me, each bringing wave after wave of memories. Watching Emma and how excited she was to be near the horses, priceless. She had rehearsed her presentation and was using an article on Arabians.....she just happened to be the one that got the Arabian ranch. She was taken back to the stalls and introduced to many horses. At another ranch she got to go to the stalls and pet them. The smell of leather and horse manure was in the air all morning long, and I loved it. Sophie and I were having more of a "Castle Rock" (being the name of the town I grew up in in WA, as well as one of our favorite parks here in CA in our territory) morning. The 3 doors we did find home were the scary, "get off my property", "so sad you make your kids do this", door slamming in your 7 year olds face type of doors. More memories.
After walking of the territory and coming to a trail head, Brian headed back to get the car. We had about 20 minutes to kill.....with the copious amounts of horse poo around, I could not suppress a story about the kids grandfather and the joys that can come from poo flinging...just not at cars.
After taking a few pictures of Bubba on this gate and seeing my dad in each one.....
And after taking pictures of this fence and telling the brother waiting with us about a specific section of fence that my sister and I would always crawl under, 9 times out of 10 not low enough to the ground, and not fast enough when a mama cow is chasing you....
I was having a hard time blinking fast enough to keep the tears back.
We headed home later in the day......and it was time to plant the rhubarb. I had been having a hard time finding any locally, and mentioned it to a friend. She had access to some in Sacramento, and brought me a hardy root, as well as some stalks she cut. I planted it in the far corner of the garden. I spent the rest of the afternoon making my first (of many to come) rhubarb pies. I haven't had one since I was a kid. We always had a large bush down in the corner of the field and mom made the best pies! I had no idea how she made them or what recipe she used or if I was doing it right, but when I took my first bite, it tasted just like it did when I was little. There is nothing like a rhubarb pie! It was a first for the kids and they all liked it!While my kids are growing up in a much different environment than I, I hope they look back on their childhood with as fond of memories as I look back on mine.