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Aug 22, 2012

This morn­ing was the last morn­ing to look out Aunt Wilda’s kitchen win­dow to see  deer graz­ing on clover and I’m going to miss it some­thing terrible.

I’ll miss watch­ing the sun set on the old home­stead. It still amazes me that the house was rolled up over the hill from across the street. They had it sit­ting on top of logs pulled by horses and placed in its spot by my great great grand­fa­ther Enoch Childers in 1900.

I’ll miss dig­ging for trea­sures with my cousin Con­nie. She is the best dig­ger ever. We were out­side talk­ing and before I knew it she put a rake in my hand, had one in her’s and off we went rak­ing out from under­neath the old smoke­house. Some of these trea­sures will be found in cre­ations for book 3.

I’ll miss pick­ing and eat­ing grape toma­toes from Aunt Wilda’s tomato plants. They are so good and sweet!

I’ll miss the morn­ing walks mom and I take as well as tak­ing pho­tos of the flow­ers, trees and bushes along our path. I’ll miss chat­ting with fam­ily while sit­ting on the deck enjoy­ing a cool breeze. I’ll miss hear­ing all the sto­ries of when mom and her brother and sis­ter were younger and how my grand­fa­ther drove a jeep for half his postal route and rode a horse to fin­ish the other half.

And I’ll miss see­ing this view as we drive into the old home­stead. But you can bet as we leave and I’m look­ing back I’ll be count­ing down the days until next sum­mer. I love West Vir­ginia and I love this place.


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