A Memory of a Farmhouse

Let me show you something.

Let's walk out the front door of the old farmhouse.

No, no. Do not stop to linger looking at the wavy, old glass or the beautiful honey gold graining of the wide plank old floor.

Grab your mug of coffee and come along!

I want to show you something before the sun gets too high.

Let's go right here. Be careful to walk on these flat stones set down into the grass. Your feet will stay dry that way, but hurry. The sun is going to be too high soon and I don't want you to miss this.

Let's walk past the next little porch that leads to the addition on the farmhouse. I know it looks fun with the checkerboard painted door and the hollyhocks painted on the clapboards there. I know you want to sit on the old stone steps and sip the fragrant, steaming mug of morning in your hand but come along, please.

No, we are not stopping to explore the smokehouse. It is such an intriquing little building, isn't it? Okay, we'll stop just for a second so you can open the door and smell the fragrance of all the bacon and ham that have been prepared here over the past decades. Yes, it makes me hungry, too, but come along please. We'll go back into the house in a little bit and I will make you toast thickly cut from my loaf of yeasty homemade bread spread with black raspberry jelly made from berries picked over in that treeline.

Come along.

I see you looking at that enormous tree by the smokehouse. It is a Buckeye tree. Right now I can't remember the latin name for it but can you tell it is one of the biggest in the area? Do you see that huge branch with the rope swing? I have a story to tell you about that rope swing, but first we need to walk
just a tiny bit further. You can swing later.

Yes. I promise.

Now close your eyes and let me lead you down this little slope. Be careful. It can be slippery. Just hold tightly onto my hand and I won't let you fall.

Okay.

Now stop.

Open your eyes.

...

...


This is my peony garden. Isn't it amazing? See how the early sun makes the dew sparkle like forgotten stars on the petals and leaves? Look! It is a spiderweb totally outlined in old glass glitter.

I see you are astonished. Have you ever seen so many old varieties of peonies in one place like this?

This is the most amazing time of day to come here and see them.


Where did I get that primitive stone pedestal in the center? I found that along a back road lying in a ditch. I about killed myself loading it into my truck and then rolling it down the hill to the garden. It looks perfect, doesn't it?

What is that garden up the hill you wonder? It is my vegetable garden.

And that plowed plot down the hill? That's where I will be planting my mum slips.

Have I told you the story of how I got all the peony bushes? Yes, I'm sure I did. Remember it was some time back, though. I'll tell you about it later, or you can click here to remind yourself of the story.

Well come back in the house. We'll have toast and hot cofee and I'll tell you all about it. And if we have enough time I'll tell you about the ghostly girl in a white dress who swings high through the air from the very branch where my children's swing is now.

Oh. Of course you can pick a huge bouquet of peonies before you go home. Then you can look at them massed in that old brown crock of yours and think of this little bit of time we spent together.

Thank you for coming to share this magic with me. Now take my hand, okay? It is a bit slippery walking back to the house.


...

This little memory is written in honor of the letter "P". "P" is for peony.

To read other 'P' offerings, just click here.