Nostalgia. This is taken after the old church was torn down and the L addition to the house was done. Trees were such a precious commodity - shade was so welcome in the summer time.
Did you ever get in trouble for catching a ride on the swinging gate? Ann, Steve and I did that by the hour, until we were reminded that it spring the hinges on the gate. It was worth the risk!
I do remember swinging on the gates. They were also my ladder to get up on Babe when we would go "horseback" riding. I love this photo. Sweet memories!
Imagine! Growing up on a farm in Wyoming, and never getting to ride a horse - even Pet and Babe. All I got to do was lead them to the ditch for water after they got through rolling the hay up on the stack. They were always hot and sweaty, and seemed so huge to me - I was sure that one would step on me.
Tomfoolery? We were merely being rewarded for being good kids. Actually letting us ride Pet and Babe was a compromise. Some of us (?) had corralled one of the Shetland ponies that was always getting loose from Gail ____ (a friend of Judy's) parents farm (their farm was on the way to Byron on the back road that led to Lovell), and Steve and I were trying to rope it and ride it. For some reason, that activity was not met with parental approval. We begged and begged for a horse to ride, and Pet and Babe were an easy solution.
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Nostalgia. This is taken after the old church was torn down and the L addition to the house was done. Trees were such a precious commodity - shade was so welcome in the summer time.
Did you ever get in trouble for catching a ride on the swinging gate? Ann, Steve and I did that by the hour, until we were reminded that it spring the hinges on the gate. It was worth the risk!
I do remember swinging on the gates. They were also my ladder to get up on Babe when we would go "horseback" riding. I love this photo. Sweet memories!
I would like to point out that we older children had no time for such tomfoolery as we were too tired from hoeing beets and stacking hay.
Imagine! Growing up on a farm in Wyoming, and never getting to ride a horse - even Pet and Babe. All I got to do was lead them to the ditch for water after they got through rolling the hay up on the stack. They were always hot and sweaty, and seemed so huge to me - I was sure that one would step on me.
Tomfoolery? We were merely being rewarded for being good kids. Actually letting us ride Pet and Babe was a compromise. Some of us (?) had corralled one of the Shetland ponies that was always getting loose from Gail ____ (a friend of Judy's) parents farm (their farm was on the way to Byron on the back road that led to Lovell), and Steve and I were trying to rope it and ride it. For some reason, that activity was not met with parental approval. We begged and begged for a horse to ride, and Pet and Babe were an easy solution.
Now I know who truly had courage. I got up on Babe once, and requested help to immediately get down. She was huge.
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