It was a sunny November day in western Kansas. The "soon to be bride" was excited beyond belief. She and her "soon to be" hubby were traveling south that day to look at a used trailer home that was for sale. There were two really----then they were going to choose.
Now is that a smart thing to do?? A man and woman choosing between two trailer homes that was to be home for three years? Well---let's say the day didn't go real smoothly.
The woman was looking for -- and seeing all those fancy little features, that in her eyes, were pretty important. Those important things like this one is a lot bigger than that other one. It has that nice bay window in the living room. You know a really nice place to set and read or put a plant. Two bathrooms instead of one!! A nice open kitchen!! Wow!!
On the other end of the stick--the man saw none of these things. He saw his pocket book and the price tags!! He saw how many miles he would have to move it, and again his pocket book!! Isn't that "just like a man!!" Well...would you like to guess witch one came to the ranch and became our home?? Yep...you guessed it...his choice!!
So we started our life as "Mr. and Mrs." in that plain little trailer we called home for three years. That little 10x55 followed us from a ranch in the west, to our little farm 250 miles east in the center of our great state. In that plain little white trailer with a bright blue stripe around the top, is where this new bride learned what really makes a house a home.
On February 17, 1973 my husband drove down the long three mile lane, over a couple cattle guards, through pasture land, to a little farmstead nestled along a beautiful creek. He pulled up to our little home, setting next to his mom and dads old two story farm house. He had brought me home. Life with my husband had began.
Those three years we spent together in our little home was full of memories...memories that made love grow and blossom into something very deep...very meaningful...something that still lives today.
I have to admit that I had mixed feelings during our short three months there on the ranch. I became homesick---very homesick!! After all we were three miles from the mailbox and nowhere!! We would laugh sometimes and say "well if you hear a car coming, you know that you are getting company or someone is really lost!!
I had also left a little five year old brother back home. We were five hours apart!! A person can sure miss those little fellows!! I remember in the spring, mom, dad and Glen came to visit. How happy I was those few days!! The morning they drove away, my heart was attached to the bumper of their old car. After they disappeared behind the hill I walked slowly into that empty, quiet house and there on a chair lay Glens little pillow. That was the last straw. I had to get rid of it someway. We were to poor to pay postage to send it, so I went out to the shed and found a spade. I dug a hole out under the cottonwood tree and I buried that little pillow. I put a rock or two on top of it. As far as I know it is still out there.
With three men around, I didn't have a lot to do. I wasn't really interested in finding anything either. I was still in that stage of "feeling sorry for myself." My father-in-law would laugh with me and tell me "you have the cleanest windows in the county" I was always cleaning windows!!
While I was busy feeling lonesome, miserable and feeling sorry for myself, my husband was wonderful. He would hold me close and let me cry, or he would quietly listen to my stories about home. He then would kiss me and say "Oh I love you so, you make my life complete." Then I would smile...wipe away my tears and say I love you too...I really do.
I loved to jump into his old red pickup on a spring day and out we would go to "check the windmills". We would roll down the windows and let our hair fly in the wind. On we would go, along the tops of the canyons, across acres and acres of pasture land as far as your eyes could see. I would reach over and take hold of his rough hand and he would turn and smile at me as we bumped along. Making memories....making our house a home.
His mom had some chickens. I loved the sound of them and loved to watch them hurry here and there as they scratched for grain or a worm. There was a huge garden close to our house, and I loved to take the hoe out there and work under the big blue western sky. Those people had the sharpest hoes!!
I will always remember the beauty of the ranch. A old white farm house trimmed in red sat on the south side of a hill. To the north ran a creek with large cottonwood trees all up and down it. The buildings were old and small, all but the barn. It was west of the house with a old wood corral running away from it. Three horses ran in that corral. I remember going out to the barn with the old milk bucket. taking the one legged stool down from a nail, and milking the old cow. Some barn cats would rub up against your leg bagging for warm milk. It was fun to try and hit their mouth with a squirt of milk!! Across the aisle was the horse stalls. Oats for them and a little hay. Oh the smell of sweet, fresh hay.
Sometimes at night we would bundle up and go outside and stand there gazing up into that big beautiful sky, full of stars. They were so bright up there among that dark. Sometimes we would walk out there, hand in hand, --- sometimes under the big yellow moon. I would think to myself "It isn't the size of the house or the fancy things it has that makes a house a home...it is sharing it with someone you love.
Yesterday I asked my husband what he remembers about our first home on the ranch. You won't believe what he remembers. Men just aren't as romance as women!! He said we dug up our sewer pipe and cleaned it out with a hose and took it with us!! Can you believe that?? Now I know we lived on oatmeal and beans...but digging up the sewer pipe?? Well I'm sure we did...after all it was only three months old!!
It was in the springtime, when the cottonwoods were starting to bud. that we hooked the old tractor to our little trailer with the bright blue stripe, and pulled it down the three mile lane, over the cattle guards, passed the old mailbox, and into town. There it sat, waiting until it would be pulled east 250 miles to its new home among the hedge row, on our own little farm.
So I will leave you for now as we head down Interstate, my husband in his old red ford pickup, with his prize possessions, the sewer pipe and a bucked tooth puppy. I followed in our ole blue car. Heading east to once again set up our little house witch was fast becoming home.
Now is that a smart thing to do?? A man and woman choosing between two trailer homes that was to be home for three years? Well---let's say the day didn't go real smoothly.
The woman was looking for -- and seeing all those fancy little features, that in her eyes, were pretty important. Those important things like this one is a lot bigger than that other one. It has that nice bay window in the living room. You know a really nice place to set and read or put a plant. Two bathrooms instead of one!! A nice open kitchen!! Wow!!
On the other end of the stick--the man saw none of these things. He saw his pocket book and the price tags!! He saw how many miles he would have to move it, and again his pocket book!! Isn't that "just like a man!!" Well...would you like to guess witch one came to the ranch and became our home?? Yep...you guessed it...his choice!!
So we started our life as "Mr. and Mrs." in that plain little trailer we called home for three years. That little 10x55 followed us from a ranch in the west, to our little farm 250 miles east in the center of our great state. In that plain little white trailer with a bright blue stripe around the top, is where this new bride learned what really makes a house a home.
On February 17, 1973 my husband drove down the long three mile lane, over a couple cattle guards, through pasture land, to a little farmstead nestled along a beautiful creek. He pulled up to our little home, setting next to his mom and dads old two story farm house. He had brought me home. Life with my husband had began.
Those three years we spent together in our little home was full of memories...memories that made love grow and blossom into something very deep...very meaningful...something that still lives today.
I have to admit that I had mixed feelings during our short three months there on the ranch. I became homesick---very homesick!! After all we were three miles from the mailbox and nowhere!! We would laugh sometimes and say "well if you hear a car coming, you know that you are getting company or someone is really lost!!
I had also left a little five year old brother back home. We were five hours apart!! A person can sure miss those little fellows!! I remember in the spring, mom, dad and Glen came to visit. How happy I was those few days!! The morning they drove away, my heart was attached to the bumper of their old car. After they disappeared behind the hill I walked slowly into that empty, quiet house and there on a chair lay Glens little pillow. That was the last straw. I had to get rid of it someway. We were to poor to pay postage to send it, so I went out to the shed and found a spade. I dug a hole out under the cottonwood tree and I buried that little pillow. I put a rock or two on top of it. As far as I know it is still out there.
With three men around, I didn't have a lot to do. I wasn't really interested in finding anything either. I was still in that stage of "feeling sorry for myself." My father-in-law would laugh with me and tell me "you have the cleanest windows in the county" I was always cleaning windows!!
While I was busy feeling lonesome, miserable and feeling sorry for myself, my husband was wonderful. He would hold me close and let me cry, or he would quietly listen to my stories about home. He then would kiss me and say "Oh I love you so, you make my life complete." Then I would smile...wipe away my tears and say I love you too...I really do.
I loved to jump into his old red pickup on a spring day and out we would go to "check the windmills". We would roll down the windows and let our hair fly in the wind. On we would go, along the tops of the canyons, across acres and acres of pasture land as far as your eyes could see. I would reach over and take hold of his rough hand and he would turn and smile at me as we bumped along. Making memories....making our house a home.
His mom had some chickens. I loved the sound of them and loved to watch them hurry here and there as they scratched for grain or a worm. There was a huge garden close to our house, and I loved to take the hoe out there and work under the big blue western sky. Those people had the sharpest hoes!!
I will always remember the beauty of the ranch. A old white farm house trimmed in red sat on the south side of a hill. To the north ran a creek with large cottonwood trees all up and down it. The buildings were old and small, all but the barn. It was west of the house with a old wood corral running away from it. Three horses ran in that corral. I remember going out to the barn with the old milk bucket. taking the one legged stool down from a nail, and milking the old cow. Some barn cats would rub up against your leg bagging for warm milk. It was fun to try and hit their mouth with a squirt of milk!! Across the aisle was the horse stalls. Oats for them and a little hay. Oh the smell of sweet, fresh hay.
Sometimes at night we would bundle up and go outside and stand there gazing up into that big beautiful sky, full of stars. They were so bright up there among that dark. Sometimes we would walk out there, hand in hand, --- sometimes under the big yellow moon. I would think to myself "It isn't the size of the house or the fancy things it has that makes a house a home...it is sharing it with someone you love.
Yesterday I asked my husband what he remembers about our first home on the ranch. You won't believe what he remembers. Men just aren't as romance as women!! He said we dug up our sewer pipe and cleaned it out with a hose and took it with us!! Can you believe that?? Now I know we lived on oatmeal and beans...but digging up the sewer pipe?? Well I'm sure we did...after all it was only three months old!!
It was in the springtime, when the cottonwoods were starting to bud. that we hooked the old tractor to our little trailer with the bright blue stripe, and pulled it down the three mile lane, over the cattle guards, passed the old mailbox, and into town. There it sat, waiting until it would be pulled east 250 miles to its new home among the hedge row, on our own little farm.
So I will leave you for now as we head down Interstate, my husband in his old red ford pickup, with his prize possessions, the sewer pipe and a bucked tooth puppy. I followed in our ole blue car. Heading east to once again set up our little house witch was fast becoming home.
Great memories you made and now told so well!
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