Before we left Utah, I got all nostalgic about being "home" again. I realized though, that this is no longer MY home. It was the first time ever that I was leaving and didn't cry as we drove away, or cry at the airport. Maybe it was because we finally bought a house of our own, a place that my own family now calls home. I also realized that for my children, going to this house is not going "home," but rather visiting Grammie and Papa's house. All these thoughts were rambling through my head as I decided to take some pictures of the beautiful yard where I spent so many years of my growing up--from the age of 10 until I was married at 26--give or take the years that I lived away from home.
This is the front of the house as you drive up. I LOVE the yard at my parents' house.
L.O.V.E. L.O.V.E. L.O.V.E
T
Every season brings different colors and dimensions in this yard. I remember when it was just a pile of rocks, literally. As kids one of our chores was to haul three full wheelbarrows of rocks from the yard to the creek bed every day, all summer long, and that still didn't get rid of all the rocks. I remember helping plant nearly everything in the yard, unless it happened after I moved away. The vine up the light pole has taken nearly 25 years to get about 75% of the way up the pole (because it nearly dies off every winter from the cold). The flowering cherry in front of the big window gets beautiful pink blossoms every year just before Easter, and the big flowering pear next to the porch walkway is gorgeous in the spring with white blossoms, beautifully full and green in the summer, and gorgeous red in the fall/winter.
The backyard is just as beautiful. I never tire of seeing the giant hostas in bloom; or laying in the hammock under the elderberry bush (I think that's what it is); enjoying the shade of the big willow trees that were part of the natural landscape when Mom and Dad purchased the lot back in the early 1980s; laying on the cool, lush, green grass in the summer, picking fruit off the raspberry bushes, or seeing the irrigation water run through the "ditch."
The garden looks a lot different that when I grew up. The boxes were added only a few years ago. In the autumn, the smell of the concord grapes draping over the fence is deliciously overwhelming. I spent many, many hours helping in the family vegetable garden in the summers, probably why I love gardening now as an adult. One of my favorite memories about the garden was before there was a fence between the garden and the neighbor's yard. The tomatoes were ripe, and I took a bowl of water and salt and pepper shakers out to the garden. I sat on the Huggard's lawn, washed and ate tomato after tomato the way you might eat an apple. They were warm from the sun, and juicy, and it is one of my precious memories of the garden.
The basketball hoop with the vine now all grown up the backstop. In the fall this vine turns a deep red/purple. The shed is a huge shed that I have always been afraid of because it houses as many spiders as tools and sprinkler parts. Ha!
The northeast side of the backyard all grown over, but beautiful, and blocking out the neighbor's ugly dog run and pitifully neglected dog. More memories of raspberries, apples, and cherries.
The swingset and sand box, and the "archway" to the back lot.
Can it get any more beautiful? This spot brings memories of many pictures from wedding receptions of several siblings, and family pictures for Mom's 50th birthday.
The back garden (currently being used by Camyll). The topsoil in this garden is SPECTACULAR. I have topsoil envy. Behind the garden, beyond the fence, is the American Fork river. My brothers and friends spent hours and hours of our childhood playing in "the creek" as we called it. Not literally the water, which is usually less than 6" deep, except during spring runoffs, when it has sometimes been 6-8 feet deep. But we played in the greenspace around the river, building forts, playing hide and seek, and all those other fun imaginative games children play. We did have what we called a swimming hole a bit down the river behind what used to be the Baxter's house. The river has all been changed down there now due to new developments, but back then it was the deepest part of the river, often with 3-4 feet in that hole, and we used to play there in the water all the time.
The fire pit and horseshoe pits are also so fun. The fire pit was after my days at home, but we have enjoyed some fun campfires there. I always love to play horseshoes, and have fond memories of playing with my Dad and Grandpa Christensen.
The hammock...need I say more?
The waterfall and coy pond are so breathtaking any time of year. We had some coy fish that survived several winters in this waterfall.
The Japanese maple tree makes the back patio a beautiful place to sit and visit.
The south side of the house is also one of my favorite places. I love all the vinca (probably because it cascades into the window well of what was my bedroom). Dad put the flagstone step stones in for some weddings a few years ago, and I love the way it turned out. Many memories sitting on the back porch in the warm sun, visiting with my Mom or one of my siblings, or shucking corn for dinner with my Dad. Every nook and cranny of this place holds many memories, beautiful memories of times with my family, full of love.
After taking pictures of the yard, walking through the garage back into the house, I couldn't help but look up at the ceiling. It's still there...after 26 years. This is the place where I fell through the sheetrock ceiling of the garage (from the attic--where a curious 9 year old should not have been), in January 1989, when my parents were building the house. By a complete miracle, after the +/-12 foot fall, I landed flat on my back, and broke nothing but my tailbone. Gosh, I'll never forget that. Lots of memories.
No comments:
Post a Comment