Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Childhood Neighborhood

When I think back on my childhood neighborhood... it brings a smile to my face and conjures up sweet remembrances of home, family, and friends. 

Our's was not a typical neighborhood of houses. We were not even considered a town. Rather, we lived in a rural area... a green little valley surrounded by pastures, ponds, and cedar. Our little place of heaven was called Spring Glen... located in Carbon County, Utah. The only green place in the entire county. It was home to less than 1000 people. 

I knew our place as Rural Route 1. We lived on the south side of the mail route... Haycock Lane, on approximately 3 acres of land. The route was in a rectangle shape, about 3 miles around. Houses loosely dotted the single lane, surrounded by pastures, a dairy, ponds, a dry wash, canal, and the cedars. Our closest neighbors were our farm animals. Horses, cows, dogs, cats, chickens, ducks, sheep, rabbits, and sometimes pigs. 

We were hidden from the highway... far away from traffic and noise. There were no street lights, only an occasional light from a barn and a night sky filled with millions of stars. It was the perfect place for growing up.

Here's a sketch of my neighborhood.




In the summers, we played neighborhood games such as hide 'n seek, annie-I-over, kick-the-can, softball, and red rover red rover. We slept out underneath the stars on the front lawn. We swung from the branches of the willow tree. We climbed trees, ate fresh fruit the orchard and vegetables from the garden. We played in the neighbor's pond... swimming, building rafts and catching poly wogs and frogs. We made boats out of twigs and leaves and floated them down the ditch bank that ran in front of our house. We rode bikes and roller skated. We played in the barn, chicken coop, and made secret passages in the haystack. We swung across the canal on a tire swing. We rode horses in the cedars and even to neighboring towns. We played in the dry wash for hours. After daily chores in the morning around the house and barnyard, we packed up a lunch and headed for the outdoors... not to be seen until dinner time. There were no worries in the 1960's. It was a great time to be a child. 

There was only one store in our neighborhood. It was called the Blue Cut Service. You could get gas for .25 cents, penny candy, and candy bars for a nickle or a dime. After earning a dime or two from chores, us kids would run down the lane, about a half mile, and buy a treat. My favorite candy bar was "Zero". Still is to this day!

There was also only one church house in our neighborhood, and our family attended faithfully every Sunday. Primary, Scouts, and MIA were held on other days throughout the week, which we also enjoyed attending.

I attended school at the Spring Glen School House up until 6th grade. It was an old building, but I didn't know any different. I loved my teachers and loved to learn. Spelling Bee's and having Ms. Rowley read stories to us were my favorite things about grade school.

In the winters, the green pastures gave way to a blanket of glistening white snow. We found many opportunities for play in the winter. The neighborhood kids came together often to play fox and geese in the snow, go sledding and ice skating. One of my favorite things to do on a sunny, cold day was to knock off ice icicles from the roof's edge of the house and suck on them like popsicles. 

Our weeks were filled with school work and neighborhood activities and plays centered around church and school. We gathered as a community to celebrate the birth of Christ every Christmas. Having a part in the Nativity was the highlight of the Christmas season. It was common to activity participate in acts of service for neighbors and those who were in need all through the year. 

Reminiscing about my childhood days and the place of my neighborhood heightens all my senses. The sight of my childhood home, the sound of a bird's song and the clanging of the cow's bell, the smell of lilacs and the sweat of the horse, the touch of an ice cold icicle and soft bunny fur, and the taste of freshly picked fruit from off the tree makes me aware of just how lucky I was to live in the neighborhood of my childhood days. 

Years have passed, but they have never dulled the memories of the place I call home. The little green valley, in the heart of Castle Country... Spring Glen.




Rural Route 1, Haycock Lane



My childhood home in the 1960's - 70's



Orchard of apple, pear, and apricot trees. The barn has long since been torn down. It sat directly behind the orchard and berry patch.


My Shetland pony - Stormy, grazing in the front yard underneath the Weeping Willow tree.  My sister's dog - Pottyeta, holding on to the rope!


Our neighbor's pond


Cows in the pasture with the cedar hills in the background.


 Inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

Thursday, July 28, 2016

Pioneer

The month of July is not only America's birthday, it is also my state's birthday. Utah was founded on July 24, 1847.

Every year gives me an opportunity to pause and reflect on the sacrifices my pioneer ancestors made in order for me to have the ease and comforts of life I enjoy today. 

The history of my pioneer ancestry is one of remarkable courage and faith as they treked across the great plains from Illinois to the Rocky Mountains to escape religious persecution and settle in a land that would ensure peace and prosperity. After 111 days on the trail and over 1000 miles later the first band of Mormon pioneers, consisting of 148 members, reached the Salt Lake Valley. 

When the pioneers entered Immigration Canyon, Brigham Young, the church's leader... also known as the great colonizer of the West, was in a wagon where he lay sick. When his wagon came within view of the Salt Lake Valley below he sat up, looked it over, and said... "This is the right place. Drive on!" 

After months on the trail, the Mormon settlers were finally home. Their arrival changed and defined the region forever. It is the place I love! It is the place I call home. 

Faith was the driving force that pressed the pioneers onward and to find refuge. They walked, pulled and pushed handcarts, rode in wagons pulled by oxen, and rode on horses. Most came with only the bare necessities for survival and left everything else behind. They were not only pioneers... they were refugees! They were driven from their beautiful city Nauvoo. They endured the harshest of elements where many perished on the trail. It is a story of my ancestors. One that I am proud of and humbled by.

I love to share the stories of my ancestors, especially with my grandchildren. Their stories start at their birth place... overseas. Reading about their conversion inspires me to live in such a way to bring honor to their names. It took great courage to sail the seas to a foreign land and trek across the plains to a new home on the western frontier. They were brave in every sense of the word. 

We see pioneers all around us... every single day. Refugees are fleeing their homes for places of safety and peace. They are coming to seek a better way of life. They are paving the way for others to follow. They are courageous and brave, just like my ancestors were over 150 years ago. 

How are we pioneers today? Think of all the firsts' you have done and the example you have set for others. I have never met you in person... but I see it and know it as I read your stories. What a privilege it is to know you!



In July of 2008 I introduced my grandchildren to our pioneer heritage. I filled a suitcase full of maps, books, trivia questions, bandannas, journals, and a bonnet and hat. 

The suitcase became known as "the traveling suitcase" as it would be the keeper of many wonderful and exciting adventures going back in time. 

On this particular day, we mapped our ancestors' journey from Liverpool, England, to the states. Then followed the Mormon Trail from Nauvoo, Ill, to Salt Lake City, Utah. 

Now it was time to start to the "traveling suitcase" adventure. We loaded up in the car and headed 50 miles south to This is the Place Heritage Park at the mouth of Immigration Canyon in Salt Lake City. I read stories of our ancestors as we traveled, creating a visual re-creation of life as a pioneer on the western frontier. 

By the time we arrived at the State Park, excitement was at an all time high. Pioneer life was seen everywhere and the kids were able to experience hands on activities such as weaving, wool spinning, gardening, rug beating, blacksmithing, newpaper printing, school work, and other arts and crafts and responsibilities of the day. They even got a shave at Brigham's Barber Shop and cracked the safe at Zions Bank. Most of the old cabins and buildings were brought from their original places around the state in order to create the pioneer village. 

Oxen and other animals roam the State Park. Taking a wagon ride or hitching a ride on the train got us from place to place easily. Relaxing under big shade trees and eating ice cream cones was a welcome relief from the heat. Entertainment of the early days were re-enacted for enjoyment and encouraged participation.

Living in the past for a day and participating in our ancestors' heritage was a trip back in time that was both rewarding and educational. It connected us to our ancestors in a very real way. It brought their stories to life as we interacted with the "pioneers" in the village.

This is the Place Heritage Park is an experience that will leave you with a clear understanding of life as a pioneer. It's very enlightening and gives the visitor a greater appreciation and perspective on what it means to be a pioneer of the past. 




Overlooking the Salt Lake Valley from This is the Place Heritage Park, Immigration Canyon.



Traveling Suitcase



We can all be pioneers! Past, Present, and Future.


Entertainment


This is the Place Heritage Park is friendly, interactive, and gives you a glimpse into the past that will truly enlighten and renew your faith. Hope you come for a visit!


Get started on your own family history search HERE and HERE.

 Inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Pinkie Promise Wish

Have you ever experienced a deja vu? Or, in other words, had a feeling of already experienced the present situation? 



I have. They happened more when I was younger, but they still happen on occasion. I came across an article that was not only fascinating, but it also resonated with me.

About space and time. Not as we understand it here on earth, but before and beyond. Eternity. Could our deja vu's be connected to that place, that space, that time, that we don't understand?

If I had one wish here on earth, I would wish for the absence of time and space... just for a day. I could recall the past and be in the present. I don't think I could look on the future. Not yet.

But... I would turn back to the days before my children left this earth life. I would not only watch, but I would live with them! 

I would be brave enough to get in the jeep with my son and climb the big rocks, instead of standing outside the adventure looking in. 



I would jump on a tube and fly down the slopes, wind and snow blowing in my face, racing my son to the bottom of the hill... instead of capturing the thrill on his face whizzing down the hill.



I would jump over obstacles and land on my feet, showing my daughter I could keep up!



I would go on another adventure with her, anticipating the surprise behind the next door... or curtain... or....




Just one more time... we'd walk through the tulips, play in the fountains, roll down the hills, feed the fish, gaze at the stars, and hike the canyons. And so much more.



Then, we would make our "pinkie promise", just like we did on our last camping trip together. And promise to carve in a trip every year to strengthen family ties, create memories, and share our love and friendship with one other. We would never be too busy for that. Not ever.



If time and space were irrelevant, I would bring back every single moment, every single memory, and re-live them just one more time. But I can't. Not here. Though, one day, when I am reunited with my children, I am certain we will re-start our adventures with a "pinkie promise", never, ever, to be broken again!

                             Inspired by Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop