Memory Lane Wednesday: Childhood Ranch Memories

I sit here at my grandparents house, at the dining table. I've been working on more ad mock-ups today, and also looked online for story stuff I'm supposed to be working on for the May issue.  I've neglected my Memory Lane Wednesday posts for awhile, mostly because I was focusing on moving and I don't typically have the forethought to work on posts and keep them in a sort of archive. With this blog, I have a tendency to fly by the seat of my pants. Although, it probably doesn't matter too much, as my MLW posts are not always my most popular. But, whatever. It's my blog.

My grandparents ranch didn't always reside in Sticksville. When I was much younger, it resided in Old Station, where I spent my early childhood. Old Station is one of those town where if you blinked you might miss it. However, it's kind of spread out, so you'd have to blink a few times. It sits in the back yard of Mt. Lassen, where of course, you will find Lassen National Forest. Beautiful country. And yes, before you ask, I'm totally biased. There's camping, fishing, and Burney Falls nearby.

My parents used to own one of the two restaurants in town, Brangus Burgers. It's no longer called that, and it's been changed a bit, but it's still there. The other restaurant was Uncle Runt's, but that one has been closed down for quite some time.

I remember spending time at my grandparents ranch during holidays, when the family would gather. I vaguely remember the layout of the house and the drive way. I can actually still remember the road to turn onto to get to the ranch. And the last time I was on that road, I was probably 8 years old, in the backseat, reading a book. I remember parts of the ranch, the parts that were near the house. I was never allowed to venture far.

My parents were married on that ranch. They've been married 34 years this July.

My cousin kept getting shocked by the electric fence one year. She was on the other side of the creek, where it was fairly narrow, and no matter how many times every told her to not grab the wires, she grabbed the wires. There was no lasting damage, she was just scared.

I once fell in the driveway while running. It was winter, and I believe I was wearing green rubber boots that had eyes and a mouth on the toes. You know, like "froggy boots". I tripped and fell and cut my hands in the ice and snow.

My memories of the ranch in that location are sporadic at best, but nonetheless they always bring a smile to my face. I was still very young when it was in Old Station. I didn't get to ride any horses of my grandfather's until he moved it to Sticksville. And when I started, I rode a horse named Sugar. When Sugar got too old, I rode Dee Dee. Both are now gone.

 Either way I look at it - the ranch is  the home of happy childhood memories, and the ranch is the home of future adulthood memories.