Dust kicking up behind the truck as we fly through the gravel, wheat fields waving in the wind, day dreaming of playing in the trees that stand tall and strong.  Memories that are ingrained in my mind from the multitude of trips to the old farmhouse.  At my grandparents farm the possibilities were endless, the trees around the property were my jungle just waiting to be explored, and treasures to be found hidden amongst them.  Behind the quaint white and brown farmhouse was a large hill where the cows could roam over and around to the barn on the left side of the yard.  On the right of the house was aromatic lilac bushes, they scented the laundry that my Grandmother would hang on the line that was attached to the swing I would go back and forth on as I watched her.  In front of the old farmhouse was the largest garden my young mind could ever imagine it was spanned across the yard beyond the road, I would spend most of my time pulling up carrots, shucking peas, stealing sweet strawberries and smelling the brilliant and fragrant gladiolas.

That farmhouse was my home, it was where I would spend all of my summer vacations and school holidays.  To me it was the most magical place on earth, I never wanted to leave.  I can still taste the sweet canned peaches I would have for an afternoon snack, and the delectable warm cinnamon buns before bedtime.  And feel the enjoyment of sitting at the table learning to play card games with my family, or building boxes into stages for fashion shows to reveal the barbie clothes I helped my grandma sew.  I remember running up the old wooden stairs to my bedroom in the attic, crawling into bed with my bunny named Mr. Wiggle-Nose, and Camper the teddy bear.  I still feel the love as I snuggled up to my grandma so she could read me books before I fall asleep.

The countess memories of cooking, baking, and playing with my grandmother merge together now but still I hold every one of them dear to me.  One of my favourite memories at my grandparent’s farm was on a sunny winter day.  The snow glistened under the rays of the sun, my cheeks and nose were rosy from the brisk air, the snow crunched under my boots as I walked along in my purple snow suit holding my grandma’s hand.  She was taking me out in the yard to see my dad who was getting his Ski-doo ready to go for a ride, I remember the smell of gas and the roar of the engine.  As I watched him zoom around the yard, I was amazed by how fast he was going.  When he came back, I wanted him to pull my sleigh behind his Ski-doo, I thought it would be fun but my grandma did not agree with my plan.  So, my grandma decided she would go first for a test round and as they travelled away, I watched in excitement for my turn.  But when my dad turned the Ski-doo, my grandma tumbled off my sleigh and got all snowy, it was comical scene.  Once they arrived back to where I was patiently waiting for my turn, my grandma told me she did not want me to go on by myself.  When I got on and wiggled to the front of my sleigh, my grandma climbed on behind me.  Quick check to see if we were ready and my dad took off at a smooth pace.  Chilly wind on my cheeks and a huge smile on my face, I had never been so happy to have snowy winter.