My grandparents used to live in the suburbs about 20 minutes away from our house. I still remember riding in the back of my dad’s ‘92 Camry LE (sweetest car ever), and mentally checking off all of the checkpoints to their house: freeway, bridge, Fleet Farm, Corn/Pumpkin stand, old gas station, new gas station, driving range (almost there!), and finally the sign out front that reads “Moe’s Meadows”. They owned a small “hobby” farm that was about 7 and 1/2 acres. Driving up to their house, you could stare at the enormous front yard for about 5 minutes before you got to gate at the beginning of their long, elegant driveway. (The gate was some trees over the beginning of a gravel road, but it was my favorite part when I was young.) Driving up to their house was always fun because there was so much stuff to see and do.
“On your right, see 40 pine trees that my grandpa is growing to sell.”
(I don’t know about that business plan, since they never grew taller than me in 10 years.)
“On your left, is the white fence between the 4 HUGE pine trees (at least 50 feet tall each), and the small fire pit is used almost constantly. Even in the middle of winter. Back to the right, a few hundred yards past the baby pine trees is the raspberry patch and goat pen.”
(That’s right, my grandparents used to have a goat, instead of a dog.)
Their house was older than most in the city (maybe even 3rd oldest), and grandma always wanted it to be listed with the historical society. I didn’t really care how the hosuse old it was, but I did like the basement and- cellar. Their basement had an extra little-room that they used for storage, but I used it as the sweetest hide-out ever! The door was mostly hidden, and it was so small that I could only fit through it when I was in elementary school. What my grandparents thought of as old storage, I thought was hidden treasure. I always found something new to play with down there: a rocking horse, a typewriter, a projector, and I once found a cart from a hospital. There was so much stuff crammed into that tiny room, that it was hard to move around. It was even harder to see because there was only the one 60-watt bulb hanging in the middle of the room. The basement was also where my grandma did most of her craft stuff. My grandpa is really good at making things out of wood, and my grandma is good at painting whatever he makes, so they could make some beautiful stuff. Most of the time they just made dolls and decorations that they could give to people as presents, so there were always about 20 dolls yet-to-be-painted. My grandma always told me that they were waiting for me the next time I came to visit.
