The items I find to write about on this blog continue to intrigue me. Why do I find what I do when I do? How do these timely items cross paths with my current life? Life continues to be a mystery. Let's just go with it.
Here are some entries I came across after a week-end of working on the farmstead which my mother and father purchased in the fall of 1969. These entries are from after a year of living on their "new to them" farm.
August 29, 1970
Went to Jeff in morning for boots & paint
canned peach preserves - drove over to
Neva's in evening-Vern painted a while
August 30, 1970
Nice day turning cooler- painted
on crib & machine shed
drove to Boone for magnets at B.
Anderson's - Gene's rode along
August 31, 1970
Got hog feed this morning
canned tomato juice and apple
sauce - went to Carroll in p.m.
with Cheryl Got 5 gal red paint
Vern painting machine shed
Wayne Black got dirt in pick-up
Over to Gene's in evening
September 1, 1970
Went to Scranton in the morning
We both painted machine shed
in p.m. drove into Scranton for
coffee in the evening
These entries stuck out to me for a couple of reasons. First, I didn't know my dad ever painted anything. However, mostly reading that the corn crib was being painted made me sad. Why? Because just last week-end the corn crib was taken down
The buildings of the farm are being demolished one by one. The structures are too old to use and will no longer be used as they have been in the past.
These are emotionally hard times. Moving away is one thing. Demolishing is quite another.