I know all about the old country days of riding the mule, curing pork, rendering lard, churning butter, packing water, no electricy, and the morning treks to take the thunder mug to the little house on the hill with the half-moon cut into the door. I have now purchased my childhood home next to the farm my grandfather once owned, but is now all woods. I started here and I will end here but fortunately the TVA and the RECC have made life much easier.<quoted text> So know what you mean, when I was little , my grandpa would plow the baccor, and I would rid with him. Then years later , I was the one driving it. Yea a sight to see a young girl of 14 driving that tractor. Those days are so few now, that I try to raise my children this way also. I cook on Sunday and everyone is invited to eat , and my children know all about hauling in hay, working the garden and all the things that I grew up doing. Life was so much more then. You kissed each other goodnight , and kissed each other good morning. Until the day we put my grandfather away , he never went a day without tellin my grandma how much he loved her . Their love was one dreams were made of .. Nite to all , hope your loved ones, value you each , for all you are, and never take you for granted...And may you have the love that dreams are made of!!!!
But I still take daily walks down mmemory lane to look at the foundation of my grandfather's old house of Love. I can also ride to the little country church about a mile away where my ancestor was married in 1806. I AM HOME.