My dad and his friends built this building as their club house when he was about 10 or eleven. Grandpa added the overhang for them. Now, forty-some- odd years later, it still stands close to where it was originally built and dad's cousin uses it for a shed.
I love to hear about the antics the boys would pull out there. There was the time someone from the railroad gave them snacks that came from a recent train wreck site. The boys ate the canned black olives until they puked and dry orange drink mix until their mouths and tongues broke out.
Then there's the time dad ruined gram's popcorn popper. It took her awhile to get to the truth of what happened. The boys kept telling her that dad made the worst tasting "grass soup" for them. Turns out he was trying to make a pot of greens like Gram does, but he didn't know the right plants to pick. He always thought she just picked green grass.
And of course, there was the older brother of one of the boys. He supplied the "reading material" when they got a little older. I don't think gram realized that it wasn't "Field and Stream". :)
As a club house, it holds memories of my dad's childhood. As a shed, it holds memories of Grandpa. Gramps was an old farm boy and always kept beautiful gardens. Cousin Mike loves to garden as well. When grandpa died, grams passed some of his farming tools to Mike. In the photo, you can see the old tiller, the rotary tiller, the wash tubs gramps would carry his harvest in, and the rusty wheel barrow. But my favorite item is the chair.
Gramps would sit in that chair under the apple tree between his house and ours. This is where we would spend time together the most. Some times he'd show me what was growing, sometimes I'd give him a life update. Some times we'd just sit and watch the garden grow. I'd come out of the house, and he'd quack at me to let me know he was there and to say hi. I'd find him in that same spot when I came home. Sometimes I still look for him there.
I've been thinking a lot about him lately. I think its because it is spring and stormy. He loved this time of year. I do miss him. But I'm not depressed. I'm enjoying the memories and, in a way, trying to document them.