When I return, I always realize how much I miss it! The wide open spaces, the stars that come out at night, the waving fields of wheat...it's all very nostalgic for me.
After dinner with the folks and a game of Racko, I hitched a ride on the three wheeler with Dad to take a look at the crops. As I climbed on the back of the tattered and spattered "Big Red" I felt like I was 12 again.
We took a spin back to the wheat field and splashed through some mud while we were at it. I have always loved the wheat fields in July when they are ripe and golden. It's just so beautiful!
After washing the mud off with the hose, I took a walk down memory lane. I found my name scratched in the cement from 1990. Dad was putting his grain bins on hoppers and when the cement pad was being poured, he told me to go out and write my name in it.
I always loved our mailbox. It was a bit of a landmarker before the 911 number system. Mom & Dad would always tell people "it's the house with the pig on the mailbox". This, of course, was because Dad used to be a hog farmer.
I think it's important to remember where you came from and appreciate your roots.
Last night reminded me of this and I drove home with a smile on my face. My parents are 2 of my favourite people and I loved my evening on the farm.