My rural childhood made me who I am today and gave me stories I still tell.

My Rural Childhood Innerviews Storytelling

My rural childhood farm

“I wish you would write about your childhood,” our younger son Mark said to me one day. “Then maybe I would understand you better.”

I told him I would. I still think my rural childhood, compared to that of our three kids’ suburban lives, was interesting—if a little offbeat for the time and the place. Just what Mark felt he needed to understand better I wasn’t quite sure, but I did think it would be fun to paint some word pictures of my life for my kids: The waterfall on the farm where I lived…and the springhouse, now memorialized as part of an historic park. Gold Mine Country School with its 13 kids in first to eighth grades.

Teddy the dog, and going to fetch the balky, obstinate cows with him. Cutting our own Christmas tree in the snow. Picking out tunes, note by note, chord by chord, on the piano because we couldn’t afford lessons. Carrying wood. Picking black-cap berries along the roadside. Sleighriding in the moonlight. . . .

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