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One of my favorite artifacts on our farm is this old and worn upping stone in the meadow.

I would have thought it was just a cool rock, but I have access to this farm’s secrets because my dad grew up here. I know that was an upping stone and that’s how the ladies got up on their horses.
I know that this odd, overgrown shelf near the upping stone in our meadow is the foundation of the small, white country church where my great-grandparents, grandparents, and my father attended services.

It also functioned as a one-room schoolhouse during the week until they built the new schoolhouse across the river.

I know that this pool was called the Indian princess bath because it was separated from the river’s main path by this line of rocks.

I know that our farm was once lined with wooden sidewalks and cottages for the families of the men who worked in the gasoline plant.

I know that the crumbling foundation of that plant hides here in the wild woods.

I know that this deserted rock-dirt road in the hills, thick with trees, was once framed by clear farmland.

I like to know all these forgotten little things.

They are like curious little secrets and I am their keeper. I tell them to my children so that they can be keepers, too.

Is that why I’m here? I like to think the twists and turns of life make sense, that there is purpose somewhere inside its complex mystery.
Even if, maybe, that purpose is a secret from me.
Posted by Suzanne McMinn on October 24, 2008Registration is required to leave a comment on this site. You may register here. (You can use this same username on the forum as well.) Already registered? Login here.
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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You’re quite lucky, and kudos for passing it on!
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I am glad you made it back there in time to be able to find out all these historical memories. Makes your farm so much more precious when you know and can relay its history.
Now if I could find someone who know something about my farm here in SC…
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I love secrets
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But maybe chickens are a shield from that?
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- Suzanne, the Farmer’s Wife
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:clock:
Blessings from Ohio…
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Linda
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
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Very. Very. Cool.
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Wonderful pics!
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Ohhhh, that Coco puff…I just LOVE that pup!!!!! I love those pictures!!!!!!!! :mrgreen: PRECIOUS! I loved your comment about “all that…nappin”. LOL That pup has the best time playing with the goats and twisting and flipping and turning, at the river…and sitting on the pie porch. LOL That pup LOVES the farm!
I was admiring my cousin’s daughter’s garden yesterday, on her myspace …she had lots of pictures. She’s a grad. of A $ M, in Ag…and she had all kinds of lettuce planted from Mesculine, to Arugula, and every vegie under the sun, from eggplant to squasha and Jalepeno’s (or that hotter one)…she makes fresh salsa…I so envy her! (smile). I am so clueless, I could not even grow tomatoes.
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i used to major in archaeology, and i find it mind blowing to discover things thousands of years old. and here this is, the foundations, etc…only a couple generations gone, and almost unrecognizable. amazing!
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I really dislike any change and don’t know how to feel about the families that (I am assuming) lost their homes and jobs when the gasoline plant closed. I am sad for them and the loss of their way of life but as I look around at all the abandoned homes and factories in my area, it makes me hopeful that God can reclaim the land for something good. Any way a beautiful, beautiful post.