Farm That Built Me; Throwbacks

 

To most people, this sight along Woodland Drive north of Sandpoint represents a nice new sidewalk enhanced by some pretty leaf trees. 

To me, it signifies a childhood of memories, literally erased by progress but figuratively etched in my mind. 

I drove through this area yesterday and had not remembered the fancy sidewalk and the trees. So, it must have been a while since my last trip down Woodland Drive. 

Our childhood farm now has an airpark subdivision with two streets:  Beaver Avenue (what prompted that name?) and Flightline Way. 

There's plenty of signage hanging from the cyclone fence, explaining the lots available.

For example, if you'd like that 1.72 acre lot in what's called the North Addition of Sandpoint Airpark, you can have it for $656,000. You'll get runway access as well as access to Woodland Drive (once a part of the original Schweitzer Road). 

That price tag is just a tad more than the $7,500 my mother paid for the original 40-acre farm in 1950. In the 1960s, the farm grew by 55 acres when my folks bought the Harney Dairy, now a housing development, with a huge house currently being built just above the railroad tracks and near Woodland Drive.  

I have many memories of time spent on and around that 1.72-acre lot: picking up sticks with my brothers, visions of our hermit neighbor Earl Duston picking up sticks,  riding horses with family or friends, walking the ditch picking dewberries, retrieving the milk cow from the far pasture and always the day my little sister almost went through the barbwire fence on a snowmobile. 

The west part of airpark area was the part of our place which my dad cleared after he and Mother were married in 1954. 

For years, there were rows of stumps and brush down there, surrounded by open pasture and one tree grove which Harold chose to leave. I can remember as that tree grove grew so did its awe.  

We had no idea what kind of critters might be hunkering down in the wooded oasis/shelter surrounded by open fields. So, while walking through, we stayed on the alert. 

On the northeast corner of the airpark is Lot 1 $599,450 on "Otter" Street" has been measured off and apparently sold. 

My personal  memories, as a 5-year-old, stealing the neighbors' mail at the corner of Boyer and Woodland Drive are epic for me, still vivid in my mind and well documented in my first book Pocket Girdles.  

I see the line of mailboxes on the south side of the road and just inside the woods some stumps and tall cedars and pines and lots of pine needles where I could bury the day's mail once I'd opened and pretended to read it. 

In one case, the ditch in between the woods and mailboxes had to serve as a repository for a box of colored nylons Lucille Hudon had ordered for her 4-H arts and crafts members. 

According to a website, I see that realtor Jeremy Brown has sold the lot, which offers runway access on Boyer.  I might have to give the new owner an autographed book to read about the history of their piece of earth.

The sidewalk stretch along Woodland Drive is beautiful.  My perspective toward the rest of the development, not so much. 

Beauty, after all, is in the eye of the beholder, and I would much prefer to see the woods and the pastures and Harold's stump piles still there. 

We all know, however, about the transitory nature of places and people and events. My mail repository in Lot 1 will be a beautiful sight for its new aviation-oriented owner, and that's okay. 

Still, I cannot help but feel a tinge of sadness and deep-seated nostalgia while viewing this total transformation of the land/farm "that built me" as Miranda Lambert suggests in her touching song. 

So many memories for six of us siblings who lived them on that place!

 

Thursday Throwbacks . . . .

Another hodgepodge today.  Seems like the first photo of Barbara and Laurie around Easter time at the North Boyer house would be appropriate since I've been discussing our childhood farm.   

I also found an old Monticola yearbook photo of my friends and classmates Andrea Balch and Gary Dunham.  I'm thinking they may have been voted "Best Dressed" for our Class of 1965. 

Then, there are my friends Becky and Bonnie, carrying a painting of Becky's hubby, the late Boots Reynolds of  cowboy cartoonist fame. We all miss Boots.

The next two photos were taken at Sandpoint's edition of ABC's "Extreme Makeover" program where a house was built over a week's time.  My friend Diane in the second photo came up from Moscow with her daughters.  Today is Diane's birthday, so "Happy Birthday," dear friend.  

The final photo showed up in my Facebook feed yesterday from three years ago when Debbie and I joined Barbara, Laurie and Kevin at the Arabian Nationals in Tulsa, Okla. 

While we were there, Debbie and I drove to the Pioneer Woman's restaurant and gift shop in Pawhuska.  And, by golly, Ree Drummond happened to be there that day.  A delightful woman and a wonderful experience. 

That year Barbara and her gelding Dusty won the U.S. National Championship in senior trail.