My parent's farm is the place I call home, even though I haven't lived there since I was 23. I know I am fortunate to be able to go back there, and experience it almost as it was 25 years ago: The house is still spotless. The garden is still well-tended. The food is still delicious. The cattle are still fat and peaceful. About the only thing that has changed is the appliances in the kitchen and the tobacco-free pasture across the road. My parents still take incredible care of their 150+ acres and 150 year-old home - better than most of us take care of our almost new houses and quarter-acre lots. Their garden provides produce for the two of them, their children and grandchildren, and many others in their community. They still mow almost three acres of yard every week in the summer. Daddy still has over 100 head of cattle that he cares for and sells for a profit. Many people count on him for fixing up their tractors when they are broken and an her for fixing a casserole when their is a death in the church. Yes, I know I am blessed. And I don't take it lightly.
Yesterday, we got together and celebrated Father's Day a little early. Most everyone was there, including sons-in-law, grandchildren, and the first great-granddaughter. The following are some pictures I took while on a walk before lunch.
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