The Farm

My grandmother has nearly thirty small stuffed animals in the back of her car and when Hazel was in her carseat, she wanted to see each one and keep them on her lap until she simply couldn't hold anymore.


Ah, my favorite swing. It's now been moved to this place underneath the deck since the old ropes on the tree were wearing out.


The sitting tree. Hazel fits perfectly.


This is the "Wall of Honor" where all of the family's awards are presented starting from my grandfather when he was in the Coast Guard to my father's awards from the Air force, to me with some of my better report cards, graduation certificates and Jr. Miss awards. This is the bedroom where I always stayed when I came to the farm.


This is my favorite thing to catch on film! Every day my grandmother shaves my grandfather's face and head for him. She's so sweet with him and will usually kiss him on the forehead when she's done.



I never knew that on the way down to the barn there's a mulberry tree! Hazel and I went and picked these mulberries that we turned into a delicious pie.


Grandpa Dorsey with Hazel


There's all of us together.


And the pie! Holy cow, I want a mulberry tree in my yard for a lifetime of yummy pies and jams.


My grandpa has rows of fruit trees where he grafted different kinds of fruit. Hazel LOVED his plums that were a cross between two different kinds of plums. They were so sweet and every time she'd see one, she'd beg to have one.


Here's the drive way leading to the house (where I'm standing) and I just happened to catch a little deer paying us a visit.


The scar on our tree that used to hold the swing. Such great memories!


And the greatest house in Oregon.


This is a statue that was left by the original owner of this land years ago. My Dad always called it "my guardian" that was always there waiting for me to come and visit. That made him pretty special to me.



My grandfather used to make a lot of things with wood, including these cute little bird houses that still spot the farm. We used to get flocks of swallows that would come out in the spring to collect feathers, sometimes even snatching them from our hands.




Every summer since I was born I've visited my grandparents' farm in Eugene Oregon. When my Dad was growing up, they had more land and it really was a farm with cows, goats and chickens. When I was growing up, my grandfather became interested in peacocks, so we only had chickens and peacocks which I always thought was the most beautiful bird on the planet. Now there's just chickens, and the dog (there's always been a dog) on seven acres that are filled with my own memories of growing up. There's the path out to the barn where I first got the wind knocked out of me after tripping on a pinecone while chasing the dog. There's the "sitting tree" where one branch curves out enough to form the perfect bench for me until I slowly grew out of it. My favorite swing overlooks the valley below us with a perfect view of Spencer Butte in the distance. The tree that supports the two-sitter swing is tilted enough so that when I was little my Dad would make the swing run into the base of the tree, causing a scar of memories to form in the bark.

We used to drive up from California, a nine hour drive, during the night and once we'd arrive, my grandmother would make me a slice of cinnamon sugar toast. Every morning I'd wake up to the creeks of the floorboards above me as my grandparents prepared breakfast with homegrown eggs upstairs. I'd always roll over onto my stomach and peek out my window at the butte, hearing the roosters or peacocks calling out their welcome to the new day.

My grandparents are growing too old for the two sets of stairs and the old house is in desperate need of serious repairs. They will be moving down to live closer to my Dad is California next month, so I had the opportunity of visiting the farm one last time with my daughter. Here are some highlights of this most special place.