kat
03-03-2001, 11:01 PM
My ds has a science project due this month. He chose to do it on Arkansas minerals. He choses quartz. It just so happens that the largest quartz mine in Arkansas is in the town where I graduated from high school. So we decide to make it a family affair. We decided to take a field trip today. We thought it would be fun to go to the mine and try to dig up our own crystals. The weather; however, had different plans for us. There was a slight chance of rain today. I don't think it rained here at home till after we got back, but the farther south we went today the more rain we ran into. That wasn't really such a big deal, since we could still go to the rock shop and buy some crystals. Which we did. But, what to do with all the time on our hands?? I know, why don't we go see where mommy used to live. Now mind you, the school I graduated from was small (my class had 30 graduates). This school was 15 miles from the nearest town, and I lived 22 miles from school in the boondocks. I was so excited just being near the school which had grown, and the little community which only had a gas station and one burger joint when I went to school there, now had Taco Bell, KFC, Dairy Queen, Sonic, Stoby's Bar-b-que, and Domino's Pizza! So off we went - to the boondocks. The closer we got to No-where, the more my ds complained. Where I lived in Buckville, Arkansas was really just a place where people kept hunting and fishing cabins, very few people lived out there full time. Any way, we get there and everything is changed. We go down 3 pig trails before we find the right one. (It has been 25 years since I was there.) Dh was getting a little worried too, because we had 2 major ice storms this year with lots of damage. There were broken trees everywhere, plus all the mud from the rains we've had statewide lately. These pig trails were definitally on the bottom of the county's "fix" list. Anyway, we find the right road and find my old home. It looked good. The people who live there had taken care of it. Ds wasn't impressed. Then I wanted to try and find my grandparents old place. Now this place has many wonderful memories for me. While growing up we spent nearly every holiday and most summers there. We called it "the old house". It was wonderful. Located between 2 creeks at the base of a small mountain (looked bigger when was younger). Old farm house, barn, storage shed, smoke house, and outhouse (never had an indoor toilet, though it did have a sink and huge cast iron ball and claw bathtub in the bathroom). Massive oak tree in the front yard with an old tire swing where we'd play "Tarzan", and swimming down on the big creek under and old swinging bridge.
Ds doesn't want to go, but I tell him it's only a couple of miles away. Of course with everthing so different we do take a wrong pig trail again, but only one this time. We get on the right road, and Dh is really worried, because of the trees, but I insist that if the gate is open I want to go on. (Several years ago we had tried to go there and owners had put up an iron gate. We had heard that the old house had burned down since then. Brother and sisters and I had discussed trying to buy the propery and rebuilding the "old house".)
Anyway, I expect to see the owners have rebuilt, or there will be nothing but the property. I get excited when the gate is open. The road is barely passable. Then we see signs that say "no trespassing" and "beware of dogs". I still want to go on. Memories are flooding back as we climb a narrow slate bank (where we collected "skipping rocks" as children) and see the rolling creek below. I start to tell of a red cabin on the right that used to belong to my uncle and the little creek bed that we have to cross to get to the house. I tell Dh it is usually dry, but because of the rains of course it isn't. We cross it, and come in sight of the old home place and I just die. Not only is the house gone, all the out buildings are gone, the massive oak tree is about a 4 foot splinted stub, there is a ratty trailor at the base of the mountain and the forest area across from the house has be cleared and there are about half a dozen little trailors and campers. The place looks like a dump! I want to scream at these people, "What have you done to this beautiful, peaceful old home place?" The dogs are barking and it looked as if the kind of people living in that kind of squawler might just meet us with a shot gun, so we turn around and head back. The whole way home I had to fight back tears. That place meant nothing to those people. To see it like that especially in light of the fact that my grandfather has been in the hospital for a month having fallen off a ladder while trimming tree limbs at his present place just tore at my heart.
It's like a whole way of life just disappeared. My whole day was ruined. Ds didn't understand why I was upset. I wanted him to see the place that holds more memories for me than any other and it was just horrible.
I thought putting this down would help and maybe it has, but I can barely see the screen now, because the tears I held back all day are flowing freely now so I guess I'd better go. Sorry this so long.
Ds doesn't want to go, but I tell him it's only a couple of miles away. Of course with everthing so different we do take a wrong pig trail again, but only one this time. We get on the right road, and Dh is really worried, because of the trees, but I insist that if the gate is open I want to go on. (Several years ago we had tried to go there and owners had put up an iron gate. We had heard that the old house had burned down since then. Brother and sisters and I had discussed trying to buy the propery and rebuilding the "old house".)
Anyway, I expect to see the owners have rebuilt, or there will be nothing but the property. I get excited when the gate is open. The road is barely passable. Then we see signs that say "no trespassing" and "beware of dogs". I still want to go on. Memories are flooding back as we climb a narrow slate bank (where we collected "skipping rocks" as children) and see the rolling creek below. I start to tell of a red cabin on the right that used to belong to my uncle and the little creek bed that we have to cross to get to the house. I tell Dh it is usually dry, but because of the rains of course it isn't. We cross it, and come in sight of the old home place and I just die. Not only is the house gone, all the out buildings are gone, the massive oak tree is about a 4 foot splinted stub, there is a ratty trailor at the base of the mountain and the forest area across from the house has be cleared and there are about half a dozen little trailors and campers. The place looks like a dump! I want to scream at these people, "What have you done to this beautiful, peaceful old home place?" The dogs are barking and it looked as if the kind of people living in that kind of squawler might just meet us with a shot gun, so we turn around and head back. The whole way home I had to fight back tears. That place meant nothing to those people. To see it like that especially in light of the fact that my grandfather has been in the hospital for a month having fallen off a ladder while trimming tree limbs at his present place just tore at my heart.
It's like a whole way of life just disappeared. My whole day was ruined. Ds didn't understand why I was upset. I wanted him to see the place that holds more memories for me than any other and it was just horrible.
I thought putting this down would help and maybe it has, but I can barely see the screen now, because the tears I held back all day are flowing freely now so I guess I'd better go. Sorry this so long.