What is a Place?

What is a Place?

There are so many places that have a wonderful meaning to me that it becomes difficult to choose one to write about. One that sticks out in my head at this moment would be my parents home. I moved out when I was eighteen to live with my boyfriend who is now my husband and I will never forget the first night I spent in our own apartment. I loved the feeling of knowing this was our place we could come and go as we pleased no one to tells us what to do and privacy. The first night I called my mom about 5 times to tell her I missed her and see what they were doing. I wanted so bad at times to move home. To my real home. It took a while before our apartment began to feel like our home. My original home is way out in Timbuktu where we have hundred plus some acres and the river right behind out home. My mom designed and we built our home together. Growing up I was kind of an only child my brother is sixteen years older than me so we never really lived together, but it didn't stop us from fighting and acting like brother and sister even to this day. My home sits on the last back of the land where we have a wrap around porch and wooden screen doors. To go from the city where I live now to my home makes me miss it so much. When you get to the road I used to live you drive down our drive way which in itself is over a mile long. We have three horses name, Chance, Pepper, and Pretty Boy. As soon as you step out of the car you can smell the river and fresh cut grass. When I lived at home we used to keep the windows upstairs in our rooms open to let the warm summer breeze blow in. The sound of the river can be heard from anywhere in our house with the windows open . Every night I would go to sleep to that sound of the water moving and crickets and frogs talking. The land our house sits on used to be Indian ground and we find arrow heads all the time. My parents found bones from one of the burial sights there on our property. There are many trees there that are bent to point to the river dating back to Indian settlements. Going further into the years we bought the property from an older couple whose wife had cancer and is gone now. There daughter lived on the farm in a very old farm house at the first of the acreage and never touched the back half. The house she lived in we had to burn due to it falling apart. Across from that house is a milk barn which is still there. When I was younger I had two rabbits which ended up getting sick and both died my dad buried my rabbits Georgia and Spot there in front of it. After their daughter moved away the land became a paintball maze if you will. There are many forts that are still there from their games they played. My brother and I would go on the four wheeler and check them out always wanting to play a game, but my mom wasn't for me playing.

My Nana and Papa which are my moms parents were always moving and going places, but they always had a home right next door to us. Even to this day they built a home next door which my parents deeded to them. My Nana and I spent lots of time together. She is the best grandmother I could ask for. She taught me how to make pies, which I still do and am quit good at now. She would play house with me, have sleep overs, go on outings, anything you could want to do as a child we did. My dad would take me fishing along with my mom and I learned how to gut my first deer from my dad at our home. My mom and I used to go to Women in the Outdoors competitions for turkey calling and I did muzzle loading which my dad taught me how to do. I can remember target shooting and the smell of the gun powder that lingered when we would practice. My family is very outdoors kind of people. There is nothing like spending time with you family no matter what you are doing.

I now have my own home consisting of my husband, our son and me. I can't wait for him to get to experience the things I did as a child and have stories to tell his children. Living on a farm is like nothing else. You can't get the experiences and fun you do there anywhere in a city. I hate it that right now we live in a city even though I am thirty minutes from my home. I am thankful that my son is only five months old so that hopefully when he is older we will have a place of our own for him to call home. The sights you see from the apartment we live in is the street to our left, some grass out behind and a parking lot. Not as fun to picture as where I grew up. Where I grew up is where I feel most at home. I still go home quit often to enjoy the sights and smells I so desperately miss. I suppose I am a country girl at heart. I may not wear Wrangler or boots, but I can't seem to get away from the place I call home.