This was taken at my request at the end of the lane. I had come back to announce my engagement to a guy my family had never met or heard existed. As far as they knew, he could have been an axe murderer. As far as I knew, he could have been an axe murderer! But after 38 years, I’m figuring not.
At this point in 1991, we had four boys. We took them back to see the farm, which was not owned by my folks anymore. When you walk in and the wallpaper is different, the furnishings are strange, and the “back kitchen” is made over into a homey sitting room with a wood stove, and is not the place to explore and dream of treasure–or at least the place to steal hidden shortbread cookies–you know you can’t really go home anymore. At least to that one.
You take for granted not having to lock doors, being free to bike the countryside without worrying about sexual predators, going to the garden to pick supper. I wanted for so long to leave and explore the big, wide world. The city drew my dreams and fascination. But it wasn’t long till I realized, I would have given a lot to return to that kind of life.
Mom would probably be chagrined to know that I’m sharing this one below. But I love it! Though I am so glad women are liberated from the brain-twisting torture of those implements.