farm, cont.

9/26/08. Thinking of Grandpa.

Sleeping on the trampoline in the backyard on warm summer nights as a child was a pleasure and I could always count on hearing my grandfather's whistling from the cab of a grumbly old feed truck as he drove down the highway. If I had an especially lazy morning and Grandpa wanted Ty to go to work with him it was guaranteed he would either wake me up with his extremely loud, lip puckered tunes and the smell of fermenting silage or a shake of the tramp. The wetness of the dew on my sleeping bag and the reverberations of the loudest whistling my ears were ever subjected to started those mornings on a jolting note. He sometimes reminded me that it was late by farm time and he'd been up and at 'em for a couple hours by then.

Comments

  1. Yes! Sleeping out on the tramp at your house was always the best. I think there is nothing better than Grandpa's whistling that you can here from a mile away.

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  2. This also brings back many memories for me and how much I always wanted to "sleep over" when we were growing up but how we never really slept when we were out on the tramp? Love you!

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