I am from tall pines, oaks, rivers and lakes. Damp, wet winters, and hot,dry summers. I am from poppies, pine cones, and pasties. I am from, "let's go to town" and "sanders, lot 91". I am from county fairs, pioneer dances, and spaghetti dinners. I am from red dirt, gold country, and Grass Valley.
My heart felt a bit heavy, this last visit home. The longing for yester-years while on the cusp of change. I tried to soak in each little place and remember the hundreds of moments at each and try to share it with my family. Josh and the kids humored my nostalgic journey you may as well if you feel so inclined.
The front pasture, running down the hill climbing through the fence to catch the bus, a camp out spot for the beehives, track for 4 wheelers, at different times home to Stony Lonesome (Aunt Sharon's horse), Trev's skateboard ramps (where I'd hopelessly watch cute boys my age idolize my brother and not even look my direction), deer, cars, and Grandma's trailer.
Much to the dismay of my mother my Dad would burn leaves (he did always check that it was a burn day). The olfactory senses take me immediately back.
This is an old mining park that Ad and Darcie took Josh and my engagement pictures.
Ah, the guard gate, need I say more?
The home my father built. Where I came home from the hospital and lived until I was in 6th grade. The blackberry bush and trees for each member of the family are no longer there but beautiful memories are held...roller skating rink in the garage, floating leaves down the gutter, standing in front of the swamp cooler. We made the big move to 5 acres in the ranchos and have been there happily ever since(20+yrs).
We were one of the first to build in this lake community my mom picked a lot just across the street from the lake because of the safety worries of six littles on the lake. Park 7 was our own private park for years (just a few steps from our house) Dad even took his own mower down to keep the park up. When we were young I remember boating as a family and even watching mom water ski.
Main beach park, original swing set and rainbow bars. I remember painting them for "day of impact" one year in mutual. Main beach...laffy taffy, myra, swim lessons with auntie, swimming to the ropes and back, "mary poppins" off the diving board etc.
The bear river...freezing, wearing generic keds to protect from the rocky bottom, avoiding nudist and trying to not get high centered in the shallow parts while floating down the river. The scary bridge that lets you know your almost home driving back from Utah.
The church on Alta hill in Grass Valley. My mom was blessed there, walked to church as a girl, my parents had their wedding reception in the cultural hall, I and my three older siblings were blessed there too. It was built by members and lives on as another church's parish.
Grass Valley building. Dad was bishop at the time of the transition and building of this Church. I was baptized here. Stand out memories include, Grandpa's production of the Sound of Music (where I played Brigetta), Curt's baseball dugout eagle project, running through the forest on pioneer day with the uncles band playing in the background (Elvira, I Love a Rainy Night), my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary, sippin' soda serenades with Dad's barbershop quartet, lots of family receptions and funerals.
Anyone still with me? probably not. To think I really only scratched the surface. I guess that is expected to having generations established in one area. I am so glad I grew up with my mom taking us around to her old homes in Nevada City and GV sharing her own childhood memories. I recognize it was she (and dad) who were giving us a since of belonging, love of our heritage, and our own identity. Those things have very little to do with the places themselves but the relationships that were build from the experiences. I will be so sad when our branch is gone from there. I will be so happy to have my parents closer and recognizing memories stay with us where ever we are.
I heart nor cal.
