We used to rent an old house on a 60 acre farm northeast of Paso Robles. Out Buena Vista Drive, past the barley fields and between Houghton's alfalfa and the dairy on the big 'S' curve. A homelier place I've never seen, actually. The year was 1969 and the metal roof roasted us in the summer and woke us when it rained. There was a small patch of grass out front, surrounded by years-old hedges and trees. The dairy cows greeted us through the front room's big plate glass window. At one time we entertained 22 cats, a few of them wild ones that lived under the house. The backyard was a ramshackled collection of outbuildings with a crumpled chicken coop and stilted rabbit hutch thrown in. An old trunk and dress she found made the perfect prop for Barb's portrait. We once had a big kite-flying party and invited family and friends to BYOK. A miserable time was had by all as a listless ground wind required a lot of running through a sea of wild oats to get your kite up. My little brother, Monte, won the prize for the highest flying kite, though, as his spool of string completely emptied. I took a few pictures. We liked to see the folks - feed them - and talk a lot.
That house is gone now. It was replaced with a new one some time ago. I suppose the frontyard has been vitalized and the back landscaped. The old buildings were demolished --- and I'm sure there aren't 22 cats still living there. Another family is making memories.
Carpe Diem! Much of your past will soon be ancient history.
No comments:
Post a Comment