on the farm

it's a friday & the kids have the day off from school. it is forecasted to be an absolutely beautiful day & boy did the weatherman deliver. after cereal & cartoons. dirty diapers & morning bottles. we began our getting-ready routine. 

we got a late start, finally got everything (& everyone) packed up & headed to the country. we are in search of great grandma's farm. we stop at her mailbox as we arrive on country lane (yes, it's really called that) & lincoln jumps out to collect the mail that he is sure she has. like always, he is right. we continue down her gravel drive through the walls of corn almost ready for harvest. spewing clouds of dust in our path. we see her house lit by the morning sun sitting proper on the hill. grandma welcomes us as she stands from the front porch swing. the middles in their boots grab bow & arrows & head for the barn. the oldest & youngest stay with me as we visit on the white posted porch. the ceremonial passing of the baby takes place. let the rocking begin. church hymns & lullabies hummed. we soon head inside because it's grandma's house so we must eat. a pot of chili simmers on the gas stove. fresh ham & sliced cheese from the mormon bakery ready to be laid on bread. peanut butter & crackers for kennedy. a cool breeze comes through the front porch door. a low rumble of rocks as their uncle's truck drives up. there's no tv blaring. instead constant chatter & laughter fill the air. someone passes the tissues either for tears brought from laughs or to combat sneezes from pollen. i venture to the barn that my brother & i once dug up treasures from. giving the middles the grand tour. their eyes light up with wonder of new discoveries & old stories. we walk back to the chicken coup & gather 3 fresh eggs. a fight ensues about who gets the honor of bringing them to grandma. back inside we go for a cold glass of fizzy soda & a chocolate ice cream treat. the littlest gives in to the sway of great grandma's rocker. the tiniest of snores soon fill the room. one can't deny the feeling of deja vu  as the oldest recants stories of school in the same room i did so many years ago. the middles & i walk around the old farmhouse investigating rotary phones & vintage radios. i share of the times when us grandkids slept over when grandpa jack was still with us. the sweet memories of a life well lived. it's late into the afternoon now so we clean up the block toys & books. we put on our boots & pack our bow & arrows. we wave goodbye to grandma. with a honk of the horn we're just a cloud of dust. 

come out to the farm sometime. 

we'll feed you. 

belly, heart & soul.

xo

(forgive my abundance of kennedy pics, but she is the resident model around here. she loves her some camera time. lincoln is constantly running around & emma tells me to go away.)

*not pictured: emma, olive & grandma who were having such a sweet time inside that i didn't want to go full-on paparazzi on them.