Today I’m thinking aboutย The Farm. And The Homeplace. Not my farm or the homeplace of my family but my husband’s. My mother-in-law grew up in Morrison’s Bluff on a farm that backs up to the Arkansas River. For years, I’ve heard stories about John’s childhood trips to The Farm, but Saturdayย was my first visit. We went for aย family reunion.
Y’all, don’t miss your family reunion. It’s important to gather and connect. And we couldn’t have ordered a more perfectย day. Notย even fromย a spring weather menu.
Is there anything better than pot luck spread out on the dinette table in The Kitchen on The Farm? Everyone talked about how years ago in that kitchen, Grandma Siebenmorgen rolled out homemade egg noodles so thin and light no one has been able to duplicate them. And that’s saying something because based on the foodย I tasted at the reunion, Grandma Siebenmorgen’s cooking and baking gene was passed down to the next generations.
This is whatย farm-to-table is all about.
I took lots and lots of photos because not only was The Farm in Logan County absolutely gorgeous, but the place reminded me so much of the Johnson’s homeplace on the banks of the Little River. That’s where my Nana’s people come from, in Mississippi County, Arkansas.ย I was especially reminded of Aunt Virgie’s house, although when I was a child, Aunt Virgie had no indoor plumbing.
The Outhouse. That was a highlight of spending the night atย Aunt Virgie’s.
John gave me a nostalgic tour of The Woods, The Chicken Coop, The Barn, The Well, The Graveyard, The Pond, The Smokehouse, The Cellar, The Attic and so on.
I could have spent an entire day looking through the old books and magazines in The Attic.
Atย Aunt Virgie’s house, my sister, cousin and I spent countless hours playing inย The Barn, The Chicken Coop, The Strawberry Patch, beneath The Grape Vines in the cool shade. Down the road at Uncle Woody’s we had The Gully, Theย Attic, The Pen which held nothing as far back as I can remember. Across the way atย Nana and Papa’s, The Storm Cellar, The Shop, The Pig Pens, The Ditchdump, The Clothesline, and The Cotton Trailers provided endless entertainment for our imaginations.
Have you ever stopped to consider mostย everything important isย announcedย with THE.
The Farm.
What a place. For me, having been raised on a farm with farming grandparents and great-grandparents, the land is the great connector. There’sย soil in my soul. And as Iย walkedย across the grounds of John’s family’s farm, breathing everythingย in, theย place felt as hallowed as any celebrated, recognized place on a tourist map. Because life happened there. A simple, steadfast, hard-working life where the Siebenmorgens raised a large family on the land. And what they started still lingers today, passed down from generation to generation in mannerisms, hard work, laughter, and faith.
Avery and Bella climbing up to THE Hayloft
As we explored The Woods, John and his sister remembered how the family packed up the family car, drove to The Farm, and cut down a Christmas tree each year from thoseย borderingย the property. I wondered which ones they had considered but didn’t select, the trees left to grow, to provide permanence. The trees thatย now tower over the land.
With time, distance appears to alter spaceย even when everything stays the same. The Smokehouseย seemed closer to the Barn than they remembered. The River seemed a much further walk. The Attic steps seemed steeper. And every little thing seemed illuminated and connected.
THE Arkansas River
THE Cows
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
[tweetthis]The Farm: Where Soil and Soul Intersect in true farm to table style. #farmgirl #farmtotable #Arkansas[/tweetthis]
Musical Pairing:
Just Breathe, Willie Nelson
One of THE best!
Thanks Colene!
Nothing connects to THE family like THE land. Beautiful blog. Except for that one little mistake where you wrote “unless” when I think you meant “endless” ?
Oops. Yes. No matter how many times I proof there’s always a typo!
Every child should get to spend time on a farm. You always convey the “soil in your soul” in a beautiful nostalgic way.
Thank you, Dorothy.
True farm-to-table indeed. Those outdoor eating photos are how my extended family on my mom’s side grew up eating at family gatherings at my grandma’s house in Kansas. The soil in my soul is far less than that of a farmer, but comes from a vigorously gardening mom. ๐ Love that the farm here backs up to the Arkansas river!
This reminds me of family get togethers on my dad’s side. ๐