The Old Farmhouse

I just saw this as a title to a poem by L.M. Montgomery and it made think of a house my family lived in  when I was young  It is usually the house in my dreams. For my parents, it was not easy to live in. Mymom would empty mice traps every day. My dad told me once he and mom had never lived anywhere where the house was so cold. They grew up simply on MN and MI. I think if my husband said to me “Shall we live here?’ Iwould say No Way.
But for me as a kid, the memories are all different. When you came in  the back door  there was a little mud room. My parents put a chest freezer there. Then there was another little room lined with windows and Dad had his desk and drawing board in there. We had a big kitchen with an oil (?)  stove at one end for heat. The dish cupboards had glass doors. We ate in there. I think the washer and dryer must have been in there. We would conjole the fussing child that her smile had gone under the dryer!  When I read books esp about pioneering  women, I picturd this kitchen. We used to spit on  the heating stove and watch it sizzle. When I read about keeping baby animals warm it is behind that little heating stove. We heated bricks on it,  wrapped them up and took them to bed with us. That is, if you weren’t lucky enough to get the hot water bottle. Ths living room was not pristine, but it is ‘the parlor’ of my stories. It is where Eliza Jane threw the blacking brush at Almanzo. My memory is where my Dad played on the floor with us. Mom said he would come home from work still full of energy. There was a small bathroom off the living room where I can remember going into to wipe the milky looking furniture polish out of my mouth. Old enough to remember. 😦  Mom and Dad had a bedroom down there with a crib for fhe current baby. I remember Dad teaching me how to tell time in there because I could count by 5’s. So I make sure my little students can count by 5’s. 🙂
There were two rooms upstairs a large one and a small one. I had just one brother and the girl population increased while we lived there so the girls had the big room. There was a hole in the floor to let downstairs heat rise up througb and also through which we lowered ourselves or our friends to see how far we could get. The floor was bare linolleum so in the winter we moved fast so our feet wouldn’t freeze.We must have had at least 3 beds in there. It was stark. Cou try people don’t expect to be in their bedrooms much. Like sitting there and writing blogs before they get out of bed! Even though my parents were quite country, they had a habit of eating breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings and at least sometimes, Dad cooked it. If we wanted  to do something special for them we would cook it for them and take it to them. I’m starting to wander. Maybe next time I ‘ll do the outside of that place. It’s just as good and I am glad to get this written down.

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