It's like that every time I go back to the Lynn Homestead. The little pond makes me remember "don't go near the pond." The Root Cellar recalls naughty boys with cans of spray paint. My amusing father brings back memories of... my amusing father!Our trip to bloomsburg was full of reaffirmations that I lived a somewhat normal childhood, and that I remember it as such.
We arrived with promises of:
"Blackberries the size of golf balls! So many of 'em the brambles are bent to the ground."
"The living room has been turned into a bit of a drum workshop!"
and...
"More Thai Grease than we could know what to do with."
You know what... every bit of it was true.
Lindsay said she wanted to really "do" Bloomsburg this time (because usually we just lounge around the farm.) What did that mean? We went to Berrigans for Subs. They are still the best I've ever had. We picked blackberries in the fields. We took a (last minute) tour of the barn, and we even took a stroll on main street. Tara cooked for us all one night. Amy and Dad provided endless amusement at the dinner table. We even ate steak.
We may have had even more fun, but I spent ALL of Thursday inside
the engine bay of our truck. It seems I have overestimated my mechanic skills. While I did not render anything inoperable, I managed to work for 10 hours on a project that was supposed to take 2. And only got it half way done. The good news is that we've since hired a real mechanic to install the new water pump and the truck is happy.And now, as I hear it... Dad is playing more drums than ever. The blackberries are still ripening. The Garden is now bearing fruit.
The Barns haven't fallen down. My sisters are still growing beautifully. Bloomsburg has continued its slow and steady march towards not changing all that much.
5 comments:
Swell visions Josh. Thanks.
speaking as one of those naughty boys with the can of spray paint, I really enjoyed your entry.
and I know you said Berrigans, but I hope you meant to say Steph's.....
Josh,
The best subs in the world come from a place in Delaware called Capriotti's. I know they opened up a place in Vegas but according to their web site (http://www.capriottis.com/) they have a bunch of places out west. I strongly urge you guys to go there. They might even have grease!
Chris
That's my boy!
Loved your descriptions of your and Lindsay's time here, and your personal reflections.
This place speaks to me too.
And you're so right, it does pretty well remain a constant.
What does change is attitude and perspective. Your reflection regarding the spray paint caper in the root cellar fills me with melancholy! I was, at the time madder than a hornet! Today, I'd invite you and Ben over, and join you-even VOLUNTARILY provide the spray paint.
And yet, other attitudes and perspectives remain a constant: I love you dearly. Happy travels, Dad.
Correction: Despite the clear confesson of Shiva, Ben's brother appearing as comment #2 hereat (chandelier), I unfairly implied that Ben was the original perpetrator. Ben is a very bright young man, and was a mischevous child. Hence, although not a perpetrator, he may well have been a "co-conspirator". Not really. Ben- you have been wrongfully accused in my blog. And Shiva, you were almost robbed of credit for your artwork. Mia Culpa. Mia Culpa. Apologies to both. But, in the context of my prior blog, I WOULD be pleased to have you both back with Josh, so we could spray some more!!!
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