"This is one time, growing up on the farm..."
Welcome words to some, dreaded to others. But no longer need you rely on my lackluster storytelling abilities. No longer need you use your imagination, or at least not as much. Come with me on a tour of my childhood.
It's starts, appropriately and stereotypically enough, with a barn.
This barn belongs to my old neighbor. Dry, weathered, dusty. Everything you'd expect.
And then there's this thing.
This is a really really old beet digger that's been sitting there for as long as I remember. I think maybe my grandfather used it when my dad was a kid. I think it's pretty cool. Of course, I think all these pictures are pretty cool.
And now, my cherished childhood stomping ground: the mighty WATERFALL!
Can't you just feel the danger?! I swear it was bigger when I was 6. It really freaked me out. It seemed like a rushing river. Those are my sisters sittin' on the bridge. We used to go swimming in that canal, pesticides and all. It's probably about 3 1/2 feet deep. That's enough to drown in.
And a view from the other side.
See those tall trees in the distance on the right? Well, just to the left of those are some shorter trees, that's my old house. I used to weed that field. It was filled with mint when I lived there and my sister, my dad and I would weed it all by hand and there's a lot more you don't see. That was a bitch, but having mint waft through the open windows of your house on a summer evening was pretty delightful.
And speaking of work, can you set a syphon?
Ida can do it one handed. I never could.
And lastly, one more picture of the swimmin' canal.
Welcome words to some, dreaded to others. But no longer need you rely on my lackluster storytelling abilities. No longer need you use your imagination, or at least not as much. Come with me on a tour of my childhood.
It's starts, appropriately and stereotypically enough, with a barn.
This barn belongs to my old neighbor. Dry, weathered, dusty. Everything you'd expect.
And then there's this thing.
This is a really really old beet digger that's been sitting there for as long as I remember. I think maybe my grandfather used it when my dad was a kid. I think it's pretty cool. Of course, I think all these pictures are pretty cool.
And now, my cherished childhood stomping ground: the mighty WATERFALL!
Can't you just feel the danger?! I swear it was bigger when I was 6. It really freaked me out. It seemed like a rushing river. Those are my sisters sittin' on the bridge. We used to go swimming in that canal, pesticides and all. It's probably about 3 1/2 feet deep. That's enough to drown in.
And a view from the other side.
See those tall trees in the distance on the right? Well, just to the left of those are some shorter trees, that's my old house. I used to weed that field. It was filled with mint when I lived there and my sister, my dad and I would weed it all by hand and there's a lot more you don't see. That was a bitch, but having mint waft through the open windows of your house on a summer evening was pretty delightful.
And speaking of work, can you set a syphon?
Ida can do it one handed. I never could.
And lastly, one more picture of the swimmin' canal.
Look at that blue sky. I miss it. New York is great for a lot of things but open space isn't one of them.
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