Yard Art From My Childhood

Memories of Dad

Dear Readers,

Yard Art is indeed a photo meme and you may not have time to sit and read so feel free to look, comment and be on your way. I just have a little story to tell because this Yard Art is special to me. :)
This little vignette has been in the corner of the yard at my childhood home since I was a young girl. It may not be elegant or pretty; but each object is near and dear to our family.
The large bell once hung on my Dad's family farm way up in one of our West Virginia 'hollers' as most folks around here would call it. I guess in the old days it was probably rung to gather everybody to come eat. I don't remember hearing it ring but imagine it did many times. I do remember walking up that hollow to go visit and have dinner. There was no road in to the property. We walked a path along a small stream. All the way up you could smell the wood burning in the stove or fireplace. To this day the right wood burning takes me right back to those long walks with my family. Eventually we could see the barn on the left and the old corn crib on the right and we'd step across the stream about then and the yard widened out in front of the house.

Sometime during my college years the old wooden house burnt down. Everything was gone except that old bell that still hung on a tall post. My Mom told me that she told my Dad ' you ought to have it, I don't suppose you could get it?' He told her he supposed he could. She doesn't remember how he got it off the big old post but he did and brought it home. He made the metal ladder that it's attached to and concreted the whole structure into the ground. It stood until this past spring and after a severe winter and much rust at the base it fell over. My Stepfather gladly repaired it and put it back up.

When we were young my Dad didn't let us play with it but when I had kids Grandpa sure never stopped them from ringing it!! It is one of my daughter's favorite memories.
If you look closely you can see a cow bell and a little sheep bell hanging there as well. My Dad found those in the old barn and brought them home too.
The old plastic bottles and kettles in the background are another story for another post. They too are some of Dad's treasures.

It will have been fourteen years this past week that my Dad left us; but each time I go over home to see my Mom my Dad is still there too.
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