Jim was raised as a farm kid. On this farm to be exact. Jim's dad sold it in 1980 when he retired, but got it back later in the '80s when so many farmers suffered in an economic downturn and some lost their land. It has been rented to the same people ever since.
We could sell it, the renters want to buy it, but I feel rather rich to own land. It harks back to how our country was developed, by people who went out to farm the land.
Over the years Jim and I have come out together and with the kids to get wood. Nathan had an airsoft gun/birthday party out here. It's a good place for target practice, four-wheeling and adventuring.
It's a good place for remembering, too. The house has been moved into town, and we hope to use it oftener as a picnic ground.
There are two ways to come into this place. Coming in on the north side we have to be more careful after the corn is planted. That way also fords a creek so we can't go that way in very wet weather.
The south side means travelling 3/4 mile over hilly pasture land to the creek, full cow trails to bump over.
We set up camp under a tree down in a little valley next to the creek and started a fire for our hamburger and brat supper. We were going to have hot dogs too, but I forgot them.
We brought a little civilization along with us.
As everybody knows (or should know) the fire has to die down to coals before we can cook anything on it so we had play time and snack time first.
And butterfinger bars.
My kids ate so many of those growing up, and now the next generation is enjoying them, too.
Zane thought the whole place was great for adventuring. As long as he kept in shouting distance, we let him go.
Making marshmallow sticks
Eventually we ate...
The men (and some of the women) shot at targets and pop cans.
...And then we gathered around the fire to wait for the storm to come.
Too bad we couldn't get both smiles on one photo.
Dreaming of someday.
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