My Grandparent's House

My grandparents lived on the ranch half a mile away from our house.  The white rectangular house with shutters and awnings on the windows had a front door flanked by two large evergreen trees.  On the west side of the front yard stood a tall Chinese Elm tree anchoring the white picket fence leading to the back door.  The garage stood across the side of the driveway along the fence to the barn corrals.  The traditional red barn with white trim served as the center point for the surrounding corrals in every direction.  Trees on the north and west helped to buffer the stiff Wyoming winds.

 Evidently, as a three-year-old, I decided to go through the pasture to visit Grandma, never thinking that my absence might worry my mother. Needless to say, my parents were frantic wondering where I was.  My dad searching for me had walked all around our house, barn and trees and then down to Grandma's.  As I hear the story,  I received  a switching with a pig weed on my little bare legs on the walk home.  The message was clear and I did not go on my own again until I was older, and then only if my folks knew I was going.

We could either follow the gravel road, which went north over the cattle guard down a steep hill through the pasture over another cattle guard and a turn to the west, or diagonally northwest through the bull pasture.  If we walked, we followed the pickup trail through the pasture because it was shorter.  If we rode bikes, we went by the road because the pasture was too rough for bike riding.  The hill down from our house made for a swift and easy ride to Grandma's, but the up-hill trip home presented more of a challenge.  You felt pretty big when you could ride your bike all the way up instead of getting off to push the bike. In the spring and summer, we would pick wild yellow sweet peas, bluebells and little white and purple flowers to offer Grandma.  On the way home, we would pick more flowers for mom. Occasionally we rode the horse, but it was more effort to catch the horse even going bareback because there were gates to open and close to get there.

We loved going to Grandma's house. She always had fresh cookies: sour cream sugar cookies, soft cinnamon spice cookies, or raisin-filled cookies and a pitcher of kool-aid.  And then there was the candy dish.  We were strictly instructed that we could not ask for candy, but there was no restriction on asking what was in the candy dish.  The result of that question was an offer to have a piece--which we had technically not asked for! If Mom wanted us home, she would ring the ranch phone (a phone line strung across the fence posts between the four ranches) one ring for Grandma and Grandpa's house.  The way each person cranked the ringer gave a clue to who was calling.  Grandma knew it was mom calling for us to come home, so she would send us out the door before answering the phone, telling Mom we were already on our way.

Living close to my grandparents was a special treat in many ways, and  I am thankful for the times that we spent together.