The Farm

After getting off of work today, I had to drive to Fort Madison and make a delivery. One of those "ooops" things that I seem to be so good at. Sigh. It wasn't doing me a whole lot of good that Bruce's wallet was in my purse. But, all is good now and I was able to enjoy a gorgeous drive on the way.

For those of you who do not know, Keokuk and Fort Madison both lie along the banks of the mighty Mississippi. Fort Madison is about 20 miles north of Keokuk, so driving to and from my destination today I was able to look at the river, for at least part of the way. I took the high way going to, so that left less of a view along the way. Still nice, just not River Nice. The leaves are just starting to change into their fall colors. It's quite lovely.

On the way home I hanged my route a bit. I still didn't take the route right along the river. Instead, I took the Middle Road. Literally. Once you get to the Keokuk part of that road, it's name is Middle Road. (We have other equally uniquely named roads here, too. Some day I'll have to share those with you!)

One of the best parts of driving along Middle Road, on the way back to Keokuk is the chance to drive by The Farm. The Farm, which isn't really a farm at all, is where my dad lived. It's a teeny, tiny house on several acres of land. My brother now owns the property. For several years, whenever Lee and his family would come to visit from the Chicago area, they would stay at The Farm. The Farm was a safe haven for the boys and I. Eric lived there until he bought his own home. Lots of awesome memories at The Farm. Some not so great one's there, too, but more good than bad. It's kind of a special place for our family.

The Farm has had a rough life the past few years. There have been several renters, who have not been kind at all. Things disappeared. Things got torn up and broken. Not much repair or maintenance has been done. After the previous renter left, we went out there. It was so depressing that Jonah was in tears. (The apple tree that the boys started from a seed from an apple that they ate, which had been growing at The Farm for years, is gone. That broke his heart.)

Now, there is another renter living on The Farm. I had high hopes. I came over the hill and could see the end of the drive way and the yard. The top of the house roof was there. Coming down the hill, I could see more. And then more. And I wanted to cry. A good friend of mine spent a great deal of time cleaning up the yard and mowing after the last people left. It rather looks like he did nothing. It's worse than before.

There was a man sitting on something or other in the yard. I almost stopped. I slowed to a crawl in my car, in front of The Farm. The man looked at me. I looked at him, and at the mess. I wanted to stop and tell him to clean the place up. I wanted to start burning trash and throwing people out.

But, I can't do that. I don't know that man. He doesn't know me. If he is the renter, he has met my mom, but not me. I don't own the property. I don't have a say in what the place looks like. (I'd love to! Give me enough money and I'd sure try to buy the place!) So, I can't change how the place is now, but while I don't have rights where The Farm is concerned, the people living there now don't have rights regarding me. They don't have the right to deface my memories. I've seen The Farm when it's glorious. I've seen it when it's trashy. In my mind, it's always going to be glorious, fun, happy.... where laughter peals and family gathers. The Farm is croquet games, fireworks, geodes, bonfires, wild life.... and there will ALWAYS be that apple tree growing in the front yard. No one has the right to take those pictures from my mind.