 |
| Our tree is the big one behind us. |
Finally, the kids took a little romp on the colorful Christmas train that stands in the center of main lot. There were lots of kids climbing on it this year, but we managed to get a couple of decent pictures.
For me, a visit to Handley's Tree Farm makes me a little nostalgic for a time long ago when I was a little girl. For two reasons.
First, it reminds me of Tulsa, Oklahoma and the tree stand that my parents ran for a couple of winters. We lived there from 1977-1980, but I can't remember if they did the tree stand all 3 winters we were there. I do remember sitting in a little trailer with a portable heater at our feet, our bodies all bundled up from the cold, and my dad in a full length Carhart-type snow suit for men so that he could help people carry their trees to their cars. Who knew Oklahoma could be so cold?! It's a fuzzy picture in my mind, but it's there - a childhood memory that I conjure up every Christmas.
Second, although my family never got our Christmas tree at Handley's, I always knew exactly where it was because it is on the same road as the farm where my mom was raised, a Century Farm that was owned by the Ryan Family for over 100 years. As I drive up and down the hills of White Oak Ave, I remember all the trips to Grandma's house - the yummy smells from the kitchen, the long walks with uncles and cousins in the timber, playing in the cool water of the creek, hiking over the hill of the cornfield from Grandma's house to Uncle Danny's house to see his family, and the farm animals scattered all over the farm.
I pointed out the lane to the farm to both Owyn and Zoee as we passed by it, and told them that it's a long lane with a big white house at the end. It always seemed endless to me, especially when we had to walk down it in the middle of the winter or during a muddy spring when our car just couldn't make the trek. Owyn said he could see the house, but I know it was just the top of the old barn set back behind the house. In my mind, though, I can see the view from the top of the hill:
The "little timber" would be on our right, and a garage housing trucks, tractors, and various parts beyond that. A big white house sits just inside a fence and gate. Just in front of it to the left is an old chicken coop, and a grain type shed set up further than that. As you approach the house, a 2nd lane is on the right, behind the lilac bushes, and leads to the barn, cow pastures, more fields, hog lots, and the "big timber". If you walk behind the house, you see the sprawling orchard, the field to the left that housed a goat (I think) at one time, a fallen tree "fort", and a path to more pigs and sheds. Straight back from the house is Grandma's garden where you can find nearly every vegetable in abundance before it makes its way to the kitchen and the cellar in jars. Walk along the path next to the garden and come to the rickety old gate that seems so large to a girl of 7, but probably isn't that big to an adult. Climb over and you're in the yard of the falling down "old house", the home where 6 children were raised until their new house was built. Head over another fence to the grain bin and the big old barn, but pick up a big stick before you cross over into the pig lot. You never know when one might charge at you! Keep walking along the path and head for the big trees, the timber. Keep an eye open for the bulls that are out there somewhere, but they'll leave you alone if you keep your distance. You might get lucky and catch a glimpse of a deer, or feel the minnows between your toes in the mud of the creek, and you might find some pretty little wild flowers to take back to Grandma. And she'll place those flowers tenderly in a jelly jar and set them on the window ledge above her kitchen sink.
It's all there, locked in my mind, a distant memory that I can see clear as day as if it just happened yesterday. A memory that I wish could come alive now for Owyn and Zoee so that they could live it and see it for themselves. Hopefully my memories are clear enough that I can paint them a picture of that place through my stories, and hopefully I'll tell the story a little more often than every November on the way to the tree farm down the road.
Second, although my family never got our Christmas tree at Handley's, I always knew exactly where it was because it is on the same road as the farm where my mom was raised, a Century Farm that was owned by the Ryan Family for over 100 years. As I drive up and down the hills of White Oak Ave, I remember all the trips to Grandma's house - the yummy smells from the kitchen, the long walks with uncles and cousins in the timber, playing in the cool water of the creek, hiking over the hill of the cornfield from Grandma's house to Uncle Danny's house to see his family, and the farm animals scattered all over the farm.
I pointed out the lane to the farm to both Owyn and Zoee as we passed by it, and told them that it's a long lane with a big white house at the end. It always seemed endless to me, especially when we had to walk down it in the middle of the winter or during a muddy spring when our car just couldn't make the trek. Owyn said he could see the house, but I know it was just the top of the old barn set back behind the house. In my mind, though, I can see the view from the top of the hill:
The "little timber" would be on our right, and a garage housing trucks, tractors, and various parts beyond that. A big white house sits just inside a fence and gate. Just in front of it to the left is an old chicken coop, and a grain type shed set up further than that. As you approach the house, a 2nd lane is on the right, behind the lilac bushes, and leads to the barn, cow pastures, more fields, hog lots, and the "big timber". If you walk behind the house, you see the sprawling orchard, the field to the left that housed a goat (I think) at one time, a fallen tree "fort", and a path to more pigs and sheds. Straight back from the house is Grandma's garden where you can find nearly every vegetable in abundance before it makes its way to the kitchen and the cellar in jars. Walk along the path next to the garden and come to the rickety old gate that seems so large to a girl of 7, but probably isn't that big to an adult. Climb over and you're in the yard of the falling down "old house", the home where 6 children were raised until their new house was built. Head over another fence to the grain bin and the big old barn, but pick up a big stick before you cross over into the pig lot. You never know when one might charge at you! Keep walking along the path and head for the big trees, the timber. Keep an eye open for the bulls that are out there somewhere, but they'll leave you alone if you keep your distance. You might get lucky and catch a glimpse of a deer, or feel the minnows between your toes in the mud of the creek, and you might find some pretty little wild flowers to take back to Grandma. And she'll place those flowers tenderly in a jelly jar and set them on the window ledge above her kitchen sink.
It's all there, locked in my mind, a distant memory that I can see clear as day as if it just happened yesterday. A memory that I wish could come alive now for Owyn and Zoee so that they could live it and see it for themselves. Hopefully my memories are clear enough that I can paint them a picture of that place through my stories, and hopefully I'll tell the story a little more often than every November on the way to the tree farm down the road.
No comments:
Post a Comment