+photoimagery

gallery

Returned a few years ago to the place I have such fond memories of as a child. My Grandmother baking bread and how good it smelled after a hard day in the fields. My Grandfather milking the cows at sunup and all the farm cats waiting for their squirt of cows milk. Getting up at sunup was sure hard on a city boy, but as I remember it, I looked forward to it. Old memories die-hard as do these wonderful old farmhouses. Gone were all of the barns and other out buildings but if you were really still and closed your eyes you could still hear all of the old sounds and feel the air full of those wonderful memories.