A Place in the Country

A Place in the Country

 It has been some time, since I have been back to the place where I grew up. It is a place of many memories. Most of my fondest memories emanated from this place. I can almost take myself there just by thinking back, back to the time when if I had a dollar I felt rich. I can think back to a time when the most important things in my life where my Hot Wheels. When I think of those times, it takes me back to that place in the country, the old farm house where I grew up, the best place in the world.
 It all starts from the road. It’s a road that is not long, only about a mile and a half, but is a winding road. The road starts out with an asphalt surface, but that only lasts for about a quarter of a mile or so, then it turns to dirt. It starts at the base of the foothills to the majestic Rocky Mountains, in the colorful state of Colorado. A travel down the road sends plumes of dust rolling from the wheel wells, like the exhaust from a jet engine, only brown in color. The washboards in the road try to shake your skin from your bones. At about half way, we come to the red rocky bluffs. They are protected by about 100 feet of thick heavy brush, at their base. Now around the corner and down the hill, lie the creek and the dense tree growth. Now we move beyond the creek, and to the pasture for the cattle to graze on one side, and an alfalfa field on the other. It’s the end of the road now, but the beginning of the driveway. It’s the driveway that leads to the old country farm house that my grandpa built. 
 It is funny to me to think of that old farm house. It was a basic little box style house. As the years progressed and my grandparents produced their family, the house had to grow as well. By the time I came along, the house had changed in many different ways. In the end, it was like someone had built a whole lot of different sized square boxes and crammed them all together, and then tried to cover them with some sort of a conglomeration called a roof. I really should not speak badly of that house. My grandpa put a lot of hard work into that house for his family. He went to Red Feather and cut his own timber, and then milled it all himself as well. There are many things that I learned about building from my grandpa, and that house. There was one drawback to the old house. The only running water was to a small bathtub, and then the kitchen sink. Needless to say, there was no working toilet. Those facilities could be found outside, down the dark and creepy path to the little wooden structure at the end. All I know is that it never kept me from wanting to be there. 
 There was never a dull moment when I would stay with my grandparents. I would walk out to the chicken coups in the mornings with my grandpa, and collect all the eggs. Then it was on to the barn and look for the nests that the chickens would construct during the day, and then lay eggs there as well. We would average eight to twelve eggs a day. After all the chores, it was on to the Hot Wheels and the mammoth road system that I, well I should say we, built in the corner of the old garden. It was like a little world all its own, and I am still proud of what my brothers, cousins and I all accomplished in that garden with Tonka trucks and some Hot Wheels cars. Those were definitely some of the best times in my life.
 There are many places to go in this big old world, but some places go with you as you get older. It seems that as long as you have that place in your heart, then you never really ever leave it behind. It may feel like it is gone, but all you need to do is dig a little deeper into that memory bank in your brain, and soon you will see that you can be back at that place, or time. It has been fun to go back, even if it is only in my mind. It is that place in the country, the greatest place in the world.