Peckapalooza over at The Confusing Middle runs a weekly prompt called Sunday Scribblings. This weeks’ theme is storytelling. Check out his post and join in the creativity!Sunday Scribblings #100 — Farm
We called it “The Farmhouse” when we moved in. In contrast to “The Cottage” where we had moved from. We could have named it “The Crazy House” but it had barns and we didn’t have the foresight. So “The Farmhouse” it was.
We moved in my early elementary school years, but the move was within the same village (Putney, Vermont) so while it involved a new bus route, there was no change in schools. In a village population of around a thousand one school was more than enough. I’d end up being with the essentially the same 20 or so classmates from 1st to 8th grade.
I still remember the day we moved. I was so scared of taking the strange bus (with a different driver and different kids) and not knowing where to get off. My older brother was with me so there wasn’t much chance of getting lost, but that didn’t reassure me. I wasn’t fully confident that my brother wouldn’t send me to the wrong house!
The farmhouse was HUGE. It had twenty plus rooms (including more than one bathroom!) and multiple barns and so many things to explore. I’d later discover an attic rich with cool finds such as a 1909 National Geographic magazine and a huge glass bottle that I used to store coins (when I could find some).
But this was a shared space and some of the areas were off limits. There was one barn that was closed up tight (we of course went in anyway later when nobody was paying attention and discovered a huge stash of drying “herbs”).
Many of the barn stalls were filled with the owners’ storage. But even with these off limit spaces the place felt gigantic compared to the cottage which was basically a carriage house that had been converted to small living space (with an attached bedroom that was sinking in the swamp no less!).
It wasn’t just my mom, my brother, and I that moved in. Her new partner moved in too. And later another family moved in as well. And they were all crazy people. But that’s a story for another time.
The farm was originally a horse farm but no more. The fields attached were leased to the nearby dairy farmer for their dry cows to graze. At one point we had a pig (name Bacon, which you can read about in Monty’s Almanac 202x if your interested), and there were the dogs and cats and rats that are a staple of such places.
One of the barns had been converted into a music studio. After one band almost burned the place down and was kicked out, I got a chance to explore. It was my first time to see Playboy and Hustler magazine which was eye opening. It was the second time finding a huge stash of “herb”.
Well, perhaps a bit random, but these are my thoughts when I think of “farm”. Thanks for stopping by The Farmhouse for a visit.
- A MiracleAnother good reminder for myself. Originally published in Thirteen Words. Be well, Monty
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