For most of our Rutherglen lives, Wayne and I shared a bedroom. We had bunk beds that could either be left side by side, or stacked. Mom would switch them up every once in a while for variety. When the beds were stacked, I slept on the top and Wayne slept on the bottom. The bottoms of the beds were just springs, so Wayne would use his feet to throw me up and down on the top bunk.Read more: The House
Quoted from an email sent to me by Wayne:
I can close my eyes and visualize just about any part of the farm. Its all still there. Getting a little foggy but still in pretty good shape. So let’s take a look at the front fields…
On the left I see hay which also called timothy. It blows in the wind like waves on the ocean. In the middle on the field there was a rock with a sharp edge on the top of it. Dad had Fielding Mclaren dig it out one year. There is a lonely alfalfa plant growing out there, left over from when Dad tried to grow a field of it. Below the timothy is clover mostly red clover Dad called it trefoil. There also some white clover and yellow clover. IF you saw a mustard plant in the hay you ran out and killed it right away. Some where in that field there’s an arrow that I shot from my bow and never found. If you look over to Chester's farm you might see him binding his wheat, with his grey Ford tractor and McCormick binder. Dad never grew wheat -- not sure why.
As soon as I get the time, I'll add memories here.