Happy 80th Grandpa B!

Saturday was my Grandpa B's 80th Birthday. For his birthday I sent him an 8x10 scan of this photo taken shortly after Christmas in 1977. I was four, and being from a Northern Californian town where it never snowed, the fresh snowfall was irresistable. I remember my heart pounding as we ventured over to the hill. I think it was my first sled ride ever, and Grandpa set the sled up right smack in the middle of the giant Illinois country street hill in front of the farm house.



Not only was I going to be whizzing down a monster valley of snow, but it was a STREET. Streets were dangerous. It seemed parents were always shouting to their little ones to look both ways before crossing a street. And here I was sledding on one! Despite the nerves, I trusted that Grandpa could stop the world if need be. They all can, right?

Many of my fondest memories as a child were born on Grandpa's pig farm. Sadly, the farm and farmhouse were sold over a decade ago. However, the memories feel like yesterday. I'm so thankful for those morning visits to see the sows and their babies, the kittens tucked and hidden in every abandon pig house, the truck and tractor rides, climbing in the barn hay, feeding the horses, swimming in the large water trough, the visits to the musty attic to peek at the old dolls and toys, my first bee sting, my first (and only) shocking encounter with an electric fence, and feeling completely safe to wander for hours on acres upon acres of property.