Home in the Country

When I was little, my family lived in a church bus. Mom and dad fixed it up to be just like a huge camper so we would have somewhere to live while they built our house. If you've read this blog from the beginning, you might recall an earlier post I made about living in the bus.

Today, I want to tell you about what it was like at night during the summer. It was very hot in the bus and we all had to share a bedroom....(me, my two sisters, mom and dad). Our bedroom was in the back of the bus and mom would open the emergency door big and wide when it was a clear night. I remember just looking into the darkness of the outside as though I was camping. The moon was always bright enough that it highlighted the grass and trees and gave me a sense of comfort.

I remember looking forward to bedtime in the summer because as I lay there in the moonlit night, I heard the sounds of all God's creatures who made their home in the country. I also remember the sounds of what I have always thought was a great party. Almost a half mile away from our little home, was a large horse pasture with large barns and such. During the summer, that entire field was absolutely filled with campers where people would come from all over the country to enjoy Bluegrass music. The man who owned this place was R. W. Skeens. Every summer I would lie in bed and listen to the sounds of bluegrass music playing and people cheering. Oh, it sounded like a grand time and I so wanted to go and join in.

I never did get to go. I did however get to go to R. W.'s smaller barn where my dad could buy saddles and bridles and sorts of things. We had 2 horses (Bill and Molly) and 1 mule (Elizabeth) and my dad was a blacksmith. He made horseshoes and worked alot with horses. Daddy was always VERY stern with us when it came to teaching us about safety around horses. There were always horses and men in cowboy boots around our home. Daddy built a workshed that looked like the cutest log cabin you've ever seen. I remember watching him get the iron red hot before hitting it into the shape he wanted. Sometimes I was allowed to make the fire burn hotter by using that big acordian looking thing to blow air right into the coals. The sweat would be pouring off of my dad as he worked and it just seemed right to see him work this way.

Daddy developed many good relationships with people by working with horses. I remember my favorite thing about getting to go to R. W.'s place (other than getting to "buddy around" with my dad) and that was the smell of the barn. It was saddle soap and leather and hay and horse maneur. It may sound gross to you, but it was wonderful to me.

I don't suppose you grew up living like I did. Maybe you're glad you didn't have to live like I did. I don't suppose you would ever believe that I was a happy child by living that way.....but I was.

Something I have learned is that the less I have in this world, the more I am able to enjoy living. It's simple things like the smell of saddle soap, the sounds of a banjo at night and feeling safe with the door swung wide open on a hot summer night, that make me happy.