It was uncanny timing that I was able to be home for the month my parents had to pack up and move out their house, shop and barn. During this month we also threw in a farewell for my little brother Brad who is now in the MTC and going to Bulgaria, but more on that later. My parents moved into this home when I was 16 years old--16 years ago--and it holds many memories for my brothers and sister and I, the grandkids, and many other friends and family members. I'll never forget Will Street driving down around to the daylight basement and coming in through the glass door down there at around 10:30 at night. I found out that was his special way into the house. There were fires, barn dances, receptions (including ours), competitions, bbqs, sleep overs, 4-wheeler rides, dogs. This is where at age 11 my grandpa taught me how to drive. He built the pasture fences and many parts of the house and barns, and with him passing this past year we had a lot of good memories as we looked back on good times with him.
How many times have you run that road to the mailbox and back?
This is the truck my Grandpa used to teach me how to drive.
We would stand up at that fence and shake a bucket of oats to get the horses to come to us.
Many volleyball games and horseshoe tournaments.
Bye bye Frontier Rd.!
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