Source: Wildflowers of the Monocacy
I grew up in the country hills and farm land of Frederick,Maryland. I feel like I am running through fields after fields of wildflowers.Never tiring of the beauties I found here.I especially loved the Honeysuckle,Dandelions,Blue bonnets.The blog presenter has a beautiful eye for photography and the photos are breathtaking.
Remodeled after New Ownership
Old Car Tag
Rustic Door Handle
Copper or Rattle
Inside the Silo
Window to Milk Room
The Temp Of The Afternoon
Wooden Barn Beams
Handy shovel for digging for fishing worms
Late Night Necessities
What is behind the door ?
Mud Dubber Nest
The Milking Barn
Silo~Storage for winter
The Attic of Hidden Treasures
All Photographs in this Gallery are the Property of Jenice Martz
Today I was thankful that I had been raised both frugally and lavishly. It taught me many life lessons. I can turn a dime and I can pinch one. The saying used to be a penny but you know inflation and all.
During my childhood we lived in a four room home with no running water and no indoor plumbing. It effected me. I was 12.
I can remember my mama making us rice and beans days in a row.
Turn that around and add a stroke of abundance.
My father was a hustler.
That entailed a hard day’s work or perhaps a win at the local pool
hall…My dad would say bring on the steaks.
I don’t remember ever going to bed hungry.I always was warm in the winter with two stoves to warm us. One was an electric gas stove, the other a kitchen wood burning stove.
I took nothing for granted because I knew of nothing better. The outdoors no matter what the weather was my refuge. Trees made to climb with nature designed limbs to get you to the top.
Creeks to wade in during the hot summers and skate on in the frozen winters.
Perfect sled runs down hills and hills of freshly fallen snow packed by my Uncle’s snow plow and a drizzle of frozen rain.
Igloo’s of snow built into the side banks next to Grandma’s house.
Croquet in the yard in the summer time with plenty of sweet Maryland iced tea to satisfy a thirst.
The smells of apple butter and apple cider being made at Butchering time. I can still see the huge vats of pig fat being made into cooking lard. The smoke wafting into the hot putrid air from the remnants of the slaughter. Preparing the humongous slabs of sugar-cured bacon and other parts too be cured in the smoke house.
The Good Old Days