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Friday, August 21, 2009

Little House on the Prairie

When the kids and I moved back home in '78 after Dad died, we lived the first two years on Tuck Corner. The house was an old, drafty, two-story farm house. But it had lots of character: open porches on the front and side, hardwood floors, an open stairway, a bay window, a claw foot bathtub, etc. Our $50 a month rent included use of a garage, chicken house, barn and garden spot.
Spring, summer and fall were wonderful seasons on Tuck Corner. There was always a nice breeze there. But in winter, the breeze was a very cold wind. The house was heated by a fuel oil furnace and even though fuel oil was only around 57 cents a gallon back then, it was still an expensive house to heat. I was so happy when I bought a wood burning stove, a chain saw and an old Dodge pickup and began cutting and hauling wood to use as supplemental heat. I also had a combination wood burning and electric kitchen range, the use of which added to the warmth.
After Doug graduated from highschool and went away to college in Ankeny, the house was much more than the three of us needed. In October of 1980, Kari, Preston and I moved to "The Little House". It was only a mile and half away, but what a difference! It was off the busy state highway, down a little-used gravel road. The house was a small, one-story bungalow; not much character, but so much easier to heat and take care of. This place also had a garage and a barn; as well as a storm cellar, or 'cave' as we called it, and a garden spot and two fruit trees.
We had lived there several months when I went for a walk across the pasture on a very temperate New Year's Day and discovered a pond up on the hill across from the creek. Until then, we hadn't even guessed at its existence.
I also discovered a connectedness to the land that I had never felt anyplace else, not even on the farm where I grew up. It was such a strong feeling of belonging. I could never understand why I felt so much a part of that place, but some of my best memories are of when we lived in the little house on the prairie.

3 comments:

  1. I love your blog! What a wonderful entry!

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  2. Comments testing...I had a nice long comment, and Blogger ate it. Won't do it again until I know if comments are working...

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  3. I can't believe it only cost $50 a month to rent that enormous old house! I'm pretty sure, by the way, that Tuck Corner is the source of my longing to have a big old foursquare farmhouse of my own.

    As for the little house...I remember lots of fun roaming those fields. The wooded creek was perfect for pretending we were headed to Lothlorien or Rivendell on a quest for the One Ring. And I remember "skating" (really just sliding around) on the pond when it froze over.

    Funny, I recall so clearly how desperately I wished we lived in town so I could see my friends and go to the shops. In retrospect, though, those long days of unfettered freedom--of both body and mind--seem like a luxury.

    It's a gift, really, this tendency of memory to polish the past until only the brightest, happiest moments shine out.

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