the farmhouse.

I haven’t been to Grandma Ina’s farm since I was a kid.  I decided to go this summer. It was one of the places on my list.

I could barely remember how to get there.  I just knew that I would need to take the gravel road past the Emo Cemetery.  I vaguely remembered a fork in the road; unsure of which way to go, I decided to stay left.  Eventually I saw an old barn on the hill, close to a stand of trees. That was it!




I drove past the No Trespassing sign and parked Mom’s car in the lane way covered in little yellow flowers.


I got out and walked around where her house used to be; it was white and green with a wrap around porch.

From a side door, you walked into her kitchen.  I remember sitting at the table while Dad fixed her kitchen sink and helped out with other odd jobs.

Off of the kitchen, there was a room filled from floor to ceiling with things.  Glassware.  Tins. Boxes.  China. Cabinets.  I don’t remember anything in particular but it seemed valuable.  It was her room of treasures.


Grandma lived at the cafe in Barwick and spent very little time at the farmhouse.  Grandpa Tom lived at the farm. Every Sunday he would make the drive to the Cafe for breakfast.  And often around 5:45 p.m., Mom and Dad said that he would come down our driveway for a visit (around supper time and stay for a meal).  I don’t remember him; he passed away when I was five years old.


As for the farmhouse, it burned down in the early 2000’s. This photo is of a shed / garage on the property.

Grandma was still living at the Cafe at the time, making trips back to the farm on weekends.  She was at the farmhouse the day of the fire and luckily was unharmed.

It was neat to go back to the farm and I’m glad I went.  Just like the cafe, it was like walking back in time to a place that was a part of my childhood.  A place where I didn’t really say goodbye.

As for Grandma’s room of treasures that she so greatly valued, in the end, it was her own doing that destroyed them.  I had no idea.  It wasn’t until this summer when Mom and I were talking about the fire at the farm that she shared that Grandma had accidentally started it when lighting her furnace.

It’s interesting the stories that can come out years later.



One Reply to “the farmhouse.”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s