* Picture of me at the age of 5 with my grandma on her front porch steps. I remember thinking that this place was so magical. I always looked forward to a trip to my grandparents farm, to skip rocks in the creek, to moo at the cows, find kittens in the forbidden hayloft, and to go looking for ghosts on the "other side of the house" which was the closed off older portion of the house that was built sometime in the mid 19th century (i think). Oh, and there was a cellar door on the outside like in The Wizard of Oz! What a cool place for a kid to explore!I have been at a loss for words about what to blog about lately. I have two custom orders I am going to be working on the next couple days and I will definitely show you the results as they are completed.
Until then.....something to ponder about:
What happens after age nine? Because of the fear we don't trust our life, our story, or our magic
-Sabrina Ward Harrison
Love the photo! From the age of 8 until I was 12, my family lived on a magical little farm like that, with kittens in the hayloft and a cellar door on the outside. Backyard chickens, a huge garden, and dairy goats instead of cows. So much for a child to do. Thanks for sharing your memories. :-)
ReplyDeleteAnd the quote...so true! I try to take myself back sometimes, to remember that sense of knowing my story, and the feeling that the world was my playground...
Thanks for sharing Kathleen!
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