Ready to Go

Spencer was assigned to give the youth talk in church yesterday. Unfortunately he was gone for three days backpacking with the scouts, and he collapsed the second he arrived home, giving me no time to work with him to make sure he had his talk ready to go. I had a super early church meeting in the morning, so I wasn't able to sit with him in the morning either, but I was willing to be late if he needed some extra help on it. I woke him up as I was leaving the house to see if he had his talk ready to go. He assured me that it was done. Right before church I asked him again to see if I needed to help. That's when he pulls this 2x3 sticky note out of his pocket, shows it to me, and says, "Oh yeah. I've got this."

I'll admit that I wasn't so confident that he was going to be able to pull this talk off. I've never seen him give a talk without it being completely written out. But he looked at me with total confidence, and since I got to be the concluding speaker I figured I could clean up any mess he left behind.

He ended up doing a lovely job. Sure. It was a youth talk, so it wasn't totally polished or anything like that. But it was obvious that Spencer had spent some time pondering his topic and these scripture references. He knew what point he wanted to make, and he made it clearly.

I was super proud of him and the good young man he is growing to be. If only he could work on his penmanship a bit.

My Happy Home

No. This isn't my childhood home. This is the chicken house. It never actually had any chickens in it, so I don't
know how it got its name. Like many of the outbuildings, this one is on the brink of collapse.
This was an excellent place to store lawn and garden equipment.

This is one of those personal posts that may not matter much to anyone besides me. You know, today our society is so mobile that people rarely stay in the same house for their entire childhood. Or maybe they do and my perception of reality is skewed by my location near the military post, Fort Leonard Wood. It seems like very few of the people I know have stayed in the same house for all that long. But I grew up in the same house most of my life. It isn't the sort of house that would have ever made it into a Better Homes and Gardens magazine. It isn't the sort of house that anyone else would walk into and say, "I LOVE this house!!!" It was quirky and cold (or oppressively hot in the summer). I'm not entirely sure that the thing is mounted properly on its foundation these days. It has the scariest basement ever made in the entire history of the world. Many things have fallen in disrepair as health issues have plagued my parents in recent years. But it was my home as I grew up, and I love it. I can hardly imagine my parents not living in that house. They spent so much of their time and energy renovating it and making it their own. Moving them here last winter was so surreal. I love having them here near us, but I wish that I could have moved our Carrollton property down here with them so that I could see my dad working in his garden, see their dog,Sandy, chase imaginary squirrels through the side yard, have Easter egg hunts in the yard, etc. But, alas, that was not feasible. Like I explained in my Carrollton post, we had to sell the property in Carrollton and say goodbye. I already took time to express my feelings about moving my parents and leaving that home when they moved here last year. You can check it out HERE if you'd like.

Today I just want to share some pictures of the things I love about my Carrollton home.

This is a weird picture to stick at the beginning of my tribute to my childhood home because this wasn't our property. I just think that this is the coolest tree ever (okay, probably not the coolest tree in the world ... but). This tree sits on a farm right outside of Malta Bend, Missouri, and I think it is just gorgeous, especially when it is green outside and it stands in the midst of corn or soybeans. Seeing this tree as we drove home to Carrollton to see my family always let me know that I was close to home. It doesn't have much to do with my house, but I didn't think that it was impressive enough to warrant its own blog post.

The old mailbox. My dad's name stickers are permanently stuck to this thing. I imagine the new owners are going to replace it. The poor thing was always getting knocked over by the snow plows, so my dad had jerry-rigged some wood to keep it standing.

Ryan hanging out in front of the house. When my parents bought this house it was a tiny two bedroom place. Through lots of sweat and effort we raised the roof and made it a six bedroom house that could accommodate our large family. The ramp was added to make the home accessible for Ryan's wheelchair, and my parents planted every single bush and flower that surrounds the house in winter and summer.

This tree sits in the side yard, and it is a great climbing tree for my kids. The trees I climbed when I was little have mostly been cut down, but this tree let the next generation continue the tradition of climbing trees.

Here's an old picture from 2009 of Katie and Spencer climbing the tree. I wish I had been able to take some of the house photos in summer. The property is so pretty when it is green out.

Another tree picture. This was a much smaller tree when I was younger, but now it stands as the dominant tree of the side yard. The bushes and evergreens that used to surround it have died, but this tree remains.

A side and back view of the house. My bedroom window is the top left window on the side.

This was my playhouse. It has really fallen into disrepair since my childhood days. My brothers and I would spend countless hours in this building, making it into our own little mini house complete with kitchen and bathroom (don't ask ... yuck!). 

Here's a glimpse at the inside. It has mostly held junk and construction materials in the recent past, but in my days it had some shelves and places we could create our little house as kids.

One neat little thing I found as I looked inside the playhouse ... This was a sand art painting I made when I was in girl scouts (probably in 1st or 2nd grade). I had hung it up in my little house, and unlike most of my playhouse improvements, this little painting survived the years. It made me happy to see it.

This is a view of the back field looking out past the chicken house from the orchard. We had lots of fruit trees and grape vines in our orchard area, but none of them remain, sadly. I loved picking our pimply looking jonathon apples from our orchard as a kid. This view shows the living Christmas trees that my parents would plant after Christmas each year. They have a little mini forest of giant Christmas trees growing in this area now. At one time this area held my dad's huge garden, but he moved it to another area of the field in later years.

This overgrown area is the remnants of my dad's garden area. At one time he had a huge garden where he planted almost everything. I hated working in the garden as a kid. Now, as an adult, I wish that I had spent more time learning from him. You can see the fencing area that Dad had to erect to keep the deer out of his corn. Even with huge fences and wiring over the top those wily deer still managed to forage his crop. Northern Missouri deer are no joke. They like their sweet corn. I don't know why they bothered working so hard to penetrate my dad's fortress when they could just walk 100 feet away and eat to their heart's delight in a commercial farmer's farm field.

Herman took this picture of me looking toward the back side of the house. This area used to have our grape vines and asparagus and strawberry patches. And for a time we had a huge barn next to this tree. It burned down after I moved away, but while it was around we even took time to care for the meanest, smelliest goat in history, Clyde. 

And now I'll take some time to show some pictures of the inside of the house. They don't really do the house justice. Like I say, because of health issues the house has been a bit neglected in the last few years. We have pulled most of the important things and furniture out, so all that is left is the trash left to haul away. It doesn't really show how I will remember the house, but it will let me remember it a bit if/when my memory starts to fail me.

Starting at the top ... This is a bookshelf that Bryan made in wood shop in junior high. They don't offer this class in many schools these days, but they really should. What a great thing to learn! I took home ec instead, and I am grateful for that, but there are times when I wish that I could know how to create good solid shelves like this. In the background you see the half bath that would have been really nice to have when I was home, but my parents didn't complete it until recently. And the bedroom that Rick had is the other room to the right.

This old piece of furniture didn't make the cut when it came to the move, but this was my dresser when I was growing up. I painted it myself, and at one time I thought it was super cool how I took an older dresser and made it all my own.

This is the light fixture and wallpaper that I chose to decorate my room. It has seen better days, but I always liked how girly it made me feel.

This is a tiny view of what my room looked like. It isn't a traditional room shape, but it worked. The bed was not mine. I don't know where it came from. Using it when visiting my parents always left Herman and me with a really sore back, but it was functional. The room was cold as snot (okay ... lots colder than snot) in the winter. The upstairs was not heated at all. I must have been a lot hardier in my youth than I am now because I insist on using space heaters when we visited with my family in recent years. Even those couldn't really push back all of the bitter cold in winter. 

The window in my room that faced the back yard. I made those lace curtains for the windows. Like I say ... they've seen better days.

The view outside my bedroom window. It is particularly pretty in the summer when the trees have leaves.

A view of the kitchen from the dining room. This used to be a solid wall, but my parents opened it up, making serving dinners way more convenient. Notice ... no dishwasher. My parents always washed all their dishes by hand. Trying to keep up with the dishes with my own family, even though I have a dishwasher, makes me really appreciate how much work my parents put into making sure the dishes were done every single day.

Another angle view of the kitchen. I will always picture my dad in this kitchen. He didn't cook a lot when he was working because school kept him super busy, but in his retirement he was the main cook for the family .... and he is super good, too. I also will picture him sitting on a bar stool near the sink, doing dishes, refusing any offers of help from us when we visited.

The dining room with a view of the room that was my parents' room when I was growing up, but it became Ryan's room in later years. 

A view of the backyard from the back door. My mother insisted on air drying her clothes always. There is nothing like the panic you feel when you have newly dried clothes hanging on the line and find a freak thunderstorm heading your way. Many a day I spent racing outside with a basket to rescue the laundry. This backyard was also home to the homemade ice skating rink my parents constructed each winter. Winters must not be as cold as they were in my youth because (except for this winter) most winters haven't stayed below freezing long enough to maintain an outdoor rink. I loved our skating rink, and I really, really love ice skating to this day. Least favorite household chore ... cleaning up dog poop from the backyard. Hated it!

Another view out back, this time showing the playhouse and the abandoned dog fence panels that kept the latest Landis pets from running for the hills.

View of the garage from the back door. We never actually used this as a garage. Well, I think we might have parked cars in it when we first moved here, but it has been more of a storage building in later years.

View of the playhouse from the back door. It looks so lonely.

Back inside now. This is a view of the hallway and door leading to the basement. Be careful. Monsters live beyond that door. For reals.

The stairs leading to the basement. I have worried for years that these stairs would collapse as my parents walked down to the basement, killing them. They are not the sturdiest stairs on the planet. And I am not afraid to admit that I was always (even as an adult) terrified at what I might find below them when I descended.

Here is a view of our scary basement. My mom is grabbing some clothespins that were left on the lines hung near the ceiling. These lines served as makeshift clotheslines whenever the weather was significantly wet for long periods of time.

This little corner served as my dad's tool area for years. You can't really see that now, but at one time my dad had an extensive collection of tools in this area that we used to do all manner of construction projects on our home.

When we bought the house it was one story with a basement. We soon took the attic and made it into two rooms, one for me and one for my brothers. when we were in junior high we raised the roof and made four bedrooms in the upstairs area to house my brothers and me. We built this stairway to lead us to the upstairs rooms. The walls were covered with family photos. There was a ledge that held the buildings from a Christmas village. And as an adult I loved seeing my kids sitting along the stairs as we met together in the living room. They really liked to slide down the banister, but it really wasn't long enough to build up enough momentum to make it worth much effort.

Side view of the house along the driveway. There is the remnant of an old chimney that used to go all the way up the house. My main memory of this area ... Bryan and I were super young ... not yet in school ... and we were playing car in the Volkswagon Rabbit. I was sitting in the drivers seat, and Bryan was in the passengers seat. It was a manual transmission car, and I put the car into gear, not knowing what I was doing. The emergency brake was not on, so we went rolling forward toward the garage. I, like an idiot, jumped out for safety. Bryan stayed in the passenger seat, crying. My mom found us in hysterics when the car ran into the side of the garage. Luckily no one was hurt, but I did grow into an obsessive compulsive adult when it comes to engaging the emergency brake on our manual transmission vehicles.

View of the garage full of the things we didn't move here. 

Now for some seemingly insignificant pictures of things I want to remember. This is the fire hydrant that sits on our corner. It is an ugly yellow and green now, but when I was younger it was red, and I spent a lot time climbing this thing when I was a little girl. I thought it was fascinating.

One of my mom's bird feeders. My mom loves birds, and she knows a lot about them. The area outside their living room window had so many types of feeders, and tons of birds would come to enjoy the spoils. I learned to hate blackbirds. They are so greedy and would eat everything, leaving nothing for the smaller, more colorful birds. But my mom and dad would just go outside and refill the feeders, happy to help their fine feathered friends.

Here are some of the early buds of some of the annuals that my mom planted all over the yard. My mom loved planting flowers everywhere, and she would have lots of beautiful plants grow each spring that made perfect hiding spots for the Easter bunny. I'll have to look through some old pictures to see if I can find any pictures of all the flowers in full bloom. For now this will have to do.

This window shined into the stairwell of the house. I think that my mom really liked this window. My parents bought a lighted star that they hung in this window every Christmas season.

 So there's a little snapshot of my childhood home. It wasn't perfect in any way, but it provided a place for wonderful memories and experiences that have made me who I am today. I often wonder if my children will have the same sort of sentimentality about their childhood home. I can't imagine that they would. But for me this little spot in the middle of the midwest will always hold a special spot in my heart. I hope the newest owners love it as much as I do.

One last picture before we say goodbye to our home.

Carrollton, Missouri ... A Love Story

I grew up in a little farming town in northwest Missouri. Sure, there are problems with growing up in a small town ... maybe too many people know everything about everything. Maybe it is REALLY hard to break free from how others define you when everyone knows you and everything you have ever done since you were in preschool. Maybe it is hard to find exactly what you need at the local stores, sending you on long journeys to the big city to shop. Sometimes the service lacks friendliness when they know that you have no choice but to shop with them. Maybe. But there are so many great things about growing up in a small town as well. There is a sense of security that comes from knowing your neighbors and knowing that they are looking out for you. There are opportunities to get outside and explore the world without some of the fear that might come about when you don't know your neighbors so well. It seems insane to me as a parent now, but my brother and I walked about a mile to our elementary school when we were in KINDERGARTEN. I would never even think about letting my kids do that today. It still freaks me out a little for them to walk on their own after school when they are in middle school. It's a different world, I guess.

I love my hometown. It is home to me. It will always be home to me. I love taking my family around the town when we traveled to Grandma and Grandpa's house, telling them the happy stories of my youth ... even as Herman kindly smiles as he hears the same stories for the ten thousandth time. But yesterday I said goodbye to my hometown for the last time in a long while. Due to health concerns we moved my parents to our area last winter so that we could be closer and able to easily help them in their times of need. Since that time their home (my home) has sat empty. We couldn't figure out exactly what we wanted to do with it. Sentimentality made us want to keep it. Practicality let us know that it wasn't realistic to hold. After putting it on the market it finally sold, so we made one last trip to the big city of Carrollton to grab some last items for my parents and get the house ready to hand over. Tomorrow I'll take some time to give some love to my childhood home, but today I want to give some to my town.

Yesterday people in the Carrollton area might have noticed a crazy old lady wandering the town, taking pictures of some things that made sense and others that didn't. That was me. I wanted to capture some images of the things that made me love Carrollton. The town has changed A LOT since I was there. So much that I loved is no longer there, a result of an economy that is not exactly kind to smaller town retailers, changing shopping habits, businesses moving from the town center and congregating around the main highway (a trend in all towns that I really, REALLY don't like ... but understand), a more mobile society, and so many other factors too numerous to name. So things are different, but there are still so many things that are part of my childhood memories that I wanted the chance to record them for my children.

So here are a few images of the hometown that I love. Here's to you, Carrollton, Missouri!

I had to start with this seemingly insignificant bridge at 6th and Locust. You know, for awhile sidewalks were not thought to be as important in city planning as they used to be. They can be expensive to maintain, and people don't walk everywhere like they used to. I love the sidewalks of Carrollton. We walked on sidewalks everywhere from our house to the park or the square. This bridge stands on the path we always took when walking from home to our different elementary schools. Many stretches of that sidewalk have gone into disrepair, and some home owners simply planted grass over them. But this bridge still remains. I wonder if communities would take on the expense to build a little bridge like this on a rarely used sidewalk these days. I am glad this one is still there. My brother and I spent many days swinging over the edge of this bridge or running through the tunnel that went under 6th street. It isn't fancy or pretty or anything, but I love this bridge.

My Schools

 

I attended kindergarten and 1st grade at Adams School. Biggest regret ... I told my mom that I didn't want her to walk me inside on the first day of school. I wanted to be a big girl. I REALLY wish that I had let her come inside ... especially now that I am a mom and know just how hard it is to send my babies to kindergarten on that first day.

I can't show any pictures of the two old schools where I attended 2nd through 6th grade because those schools were demolished several years ago. But I was super happy to see that they preserved the name plates off those schools and displayed them at the entry to the football field.

Worst decision ever ... attaching the junior high and the high school into one building. Sure, it is convenient to have the ability to pool some of the special classes like choir and band, but I think it is a horrible idea to give 7th and 8th graders the idea that they are emotionally as mature as older high school students. I feel like I grew up way too fast. Junior high years are awkward and hard no matter where you go. It sure would have been nice to suffer the awkwardness and difficulty without being directly in the shadow of older high school students ... but that's just my opinion. :)

Ah, the glory days of high school! CHS was a spot where I got to experience some great fun and some horribly embarrassing times that I wish I could wipe from my memories. That's life, I guess. But I have to say that I am super proud of the amazing high school where I attended. Small towns can sometimes end up settling for teachers who are just passing through on their way to bigger, better, and higher paying jobs, or suffer from the lack of funding that comes from having a rural tax base. But my school was extraordinary. We had dedicated, talented, and super intelligent teachers ... and I'm not just saying that because my dad was one of them. We had a supportive community. We had opportunities to compete with larger Kansas City schools in sports, academics, music, speech and debate, etc., and we held our own. I never regret the education I received here. 

These are the stands at the football field ... WAY nicer than they were when I was in school. I can still remember picking up trash on the morning after games with Key Club (one of the nastiest jobs ever) and standing on squishy boards in the stands, wondering if my weight would hold on such flimsiness. Nothing quite compares to the fun and enthusiasm of a small town football game.

This is one of those dumb and pointless pictures I took. This was the spot where we parked our '76 Chevy Vega every morning during school. Since we always got there super early for band practices we had the pick of the lot. This was our spot. Isn't it nice that in a student lot full of cars, for some reason the students didn't take my spot?  They must have known I was coming.

The Park

Carrollton has a nice little park, and amazingly, many of the same playground equipment I used to play on as a child is still there. Surely there is some safety hazard in that, but I don't mind so much. It is fun to replay on the items as a slowly deteriorating adult. Here is the park entrance in front of the nice municipal pool. I learned to swim in that pool ... or rather, I didn't learn to swim in that pool. I totally failed beginner swimming lessons ... TWICE. I managed to learn to swim eventually, but I never really recovered from the tragedy of those two failing experiences. :)

I will always associate this piece of equipment with my hometown park. Many a summer day was spent hanging out at the very top of the rocket with friends talking about important things that probably weren't all that important.

And here's the view looking up.

Best BFF swings ever. You could swing like normal with your friend while the whole contraption swung around ... the sort of equipment that would get me nervous as a parent today, but was way fun as a kid.

Another great bridge. We probably could have just hopped over the tiny creek, but this bridge lends a sort of elegance to the park, I think. And it is always fun to just swing your feet over the edge and talk to friends.

Totally a safety hazard, I'm sure, but I still remember how amazingly cool I felt when I had the guts and capability to climb all the way to the very top without killing myself.

This, my children, is what we called a teeter-totter. They don't put these in parks any more. Maybe they are considered safety hazards too. They probably are, but there is nothing like the sense of accomplishment you get when you get your brother way up high on the other side and watch his face of horror as he realizes that you are just going to jump off and cause him to go crashing down.

Another cool bridge. I find it hard to believe that this is still safe after all these years. It always looked a little rickety. But it was fun to race across when I was little.

Love the horse swings!

I couldn't leave Carrollton without one last trip down the tornado slide!

The Square

I love the Carrollton square ... well, to be true it makes me sad to see it now, but when I was growing up it was a thriving spot for small town businesses and great eating establishments. It has one of the more beautiful courthouses I have seen in a small town. Today it is horribly empty. As I walked around the square I couldn't bring myself to take pictures of the empty storefronts or the giant hole in the ground left over after a devastating fire took out a few buildings. As I walked all around the square at 3:00 on a Wednesday afternoon I couldn't believe how many of the businesses were closed for the day. I remember shopping at these stores during the days, eating meals in the evenings, and cruising around the square on weekend nights. No one seems to do that in Carrollton any more. It made me sad. Still I did take some pictures of things I wanted to remember.

I will always associate the statue of General James Shields with the square. You can hardly read my picture of his plaque, but it basically says he was a really important guy that died and is buried in Carrollton.

I had to take one picture of an abandoned building on the square. I think that Roseberry's actually closed while I was still in high school ... or at least shortly thereafter. Now it is empty because of a fire that at least gutted the building next door (you can see the boarded up exterior). It may have gutted Roseberry's as well. My brother and I used to walk there after school when we attended Root School for 5th and 6th grade. They had a counter at the back of the store where you could buy flavored sodas and things you think of when you think of an old fashioned drug store counter in the old days. Loved it!

This is a really old building on the corner of the square. My memory totally fails me, but I think that this is the jail ... maybe. Luckily, I never had to visit it in person, so I can't pull up any experiences to remind me what is housed in this building. I should have checked it out as I took the picture.

The old courthouse bell displayed outside the building.

This was not my library when I was growing up. When I was growing up this spot was a giant hole in the ground, but someone generously donated a large amount of money in order to build this amazingly beautiful library building. I adore this. It makes me want to donate my estate to the city to build beautiful buildings to replace the crumbling ones on the square after I die ... but I don't think Herman is on board with that. (But I still have time to convince him ... maybe). My parents loved the Carrollton library. My dad served on the library board for many years. Before their health began to fail they went there every week to borrow books. I am so glad that Carrollton has this spot.

Other Things

There are lots of things that I cherished when I was younger that I didn't have the chance to take pictures of. I really loved the local movie theater. I remember seeing some of my favorite movies of my youth there. One of my youngest memories was of seeing Superman in the theater. For some reason I remember that because I remember the Browning family sitting right in front of us and Mrs. Browning reached over to cover up a baby's ears as the music played. I don't know why I kept that memory, but I'm glad my town had a little theater to show relatively new movies locally. Theaters don't really work that way any more. Bigger is better. I am a bit nostalgic for the smaller theaters of yesteryear. Holy Cow! I'm starting to sound like an old person! Moving on ...

Carrollton has the most beautiful post office I have ever seen. I can't remember the story about the history of this building, but I love looking at this huge structure. It is hard to believe that Carrollton has enough mail to warrant such a large post office, but I am sure proud of it.

I have always loved this little church that sits right off the square. A year or so ago I drove by and noticed that it was in disrepair with peeling paint and broken windows. It made me a little sad. It was the Episcopalian church, I think. Hard to imagine that there were a ton of Episcopalians in Carrollton, but there must have been enough to require a cute little church like this. I was happy to see that someone has sided the place in the past year. I love all of the churches in the Carrollton area. There are some beautiful places of worship there.

I had to take a picture of one of those buildings. When we first moved to Carrollton my family attended this Methodist church. I think it is so beautiful with the stained glass windows and the neat masonry outside. This church sits on a street next to several other churches. It is a peaceful stretch of road in the town. I loved hearing the local church bells peal every Sunday morning when it was time for church. I wonder if they still do that. I don't hear anything like that in my town today. It is a sound that makes me happy for some reason.

Ah ... Mulch's. Spot of my first real job ... if you don't count the weeks during the summer when I hoed beans or worked at Pioneer helping pollinate corn (or something like that ... I was horrible at it). I have a huge scar on my thumb to remind me of my time there. I sliced it open on the meat slicer in the deli. Ick! Some of my good high school friends worked there beside me. I became a fan of country music after being subjected to it day after day in the break room. And I became a super good sacker. To this day I cringe when super market baggers mix cold meat items with fresh fruit. 

Heading into the south side of town. You can see evidence of the farm presence in this town with the grain elevator in the background there. Don't be deceived by the speed limit sign. It is actually ...

Does anyone in Carrollton (besides my mother when she was driving) actually drive the speed limit? I know the people driving by my parents' house on Ely drive a whole lot faster.

I never ate at Burger Bar when I was growing up. I don't know why. [So ... I guess I should edit this and offer a tiny bit of explanation since facebook chatter shows that there are a few out there that seem to take it personally that I never ate at Burger Bar growing up and think that is the weirdest thing ever. My family hardly ever ate out. We couldn't afford to. When we did eat out it was a special occasion  ... usually during a trip out of town. Unlike the eating places on the north side of town, Burger Bar was not exactly on my walking route, so I never had occasion to go there on my own. I still managed to have a lovely childhood, despite me lack of the Burger Bar experience.] But I did have ice cream at Dari Maid. Now the two businesses are combined in one. I had to stop by one last time to get an ice cream on the way out of town.

The new building is on top of the old Dari Maid, but here is the old Burger Bar building with its iconic sign.

The Brown Derby half eaten. Sorry for having to display my enormous thumbs. 

I love the old train depot building at the south side of town. You can almost see the place where passengers would have gotten on and off trains in the old days.

Seems fitting that we would meet a train blocking traffic on our way out of town. I'm sure others found it annoying, but I always loved the sounds of the train horns blowing that I could hear from my house growing up. 

So there you have it. This is just a tiny snapshot of my hometown. But, you know, it isn't the buildings or the businesses that make Carrollton my hometown. It is the people and the experiences of my youth. Overall I would say that I had a fairly ideal childhood, and I count myself lucky that I could spend my childhood in a town like this.