My Grandparent's Farmhouse

There is a lot of things that we are grateful for in this life…good health, safe shelter ,healthy food, love of both parents ….in my case I’m really grateful for enjoying my childhood..i’m grateful for the amazing childhood that I was blessed of having…i grew up in the city and I enjoyed every excellence that comes with it…enjoying shopping hanging out with friends, eating fast food all the time… except that’s not what I was exactly thankful for…contrarily I’m grateful for the week-ends that I spent visiting my grandparents…actually they owned a farmhouse…I remember at school when I was 6 or 7 my friends were so excited for the end of the week since they’re going I don’t know…to the park or the zoo…however I was excited for my own reasons…I was happy that finally I’m going to spend 2 days in my grandparents house…I precisely remember the long tiring journey that we’re obliged to go through in order to go from our house in the city to my grandparents big farmhouse in the country…I remember remembering every little detail in the way from the sailors to the shops to the wide opened terraces that we go by…until we get to the ranch…I remember being so excited to get out of the car that I literally open its door 10 meters before the car stops…I remember hanging in my grandfather’s neck then giving my grandmother an endless hug followed by running all over the house and yelling calling for Mr beenks our stable’s manager how he likes to be called and lucy our kitchen manager her too like the way she want to be called…i remember waking up on the sound of cows chickens and dogs…it is like they agree on a song and keep playing it all morning on until they’re sure you’re up…it is ironical that I never ever remember waking up before Mr beenks or my grandfather..i remember waking up to find lucy doing the dishes and chatting with my grandmother…and my grandfather feeding the animals..While Mr beenks is cleaning the stables...It is always like that...No matter when I wake up..i never find them doing anything else but this…I recall every moment that I spent helping lucy with the laundry…but honestly I preferred helping Mr beenks..Learning to feed the animals…showering them and cleaning the stables…my grandmother hated me going to help my grandfather and not spending time with her ..She said it getting dirty and covered with animal’s duties is a men’s job..and I better let it for grandfather, my little brother and of course Mr beenks…she also affirmed that wome should stay home wash dishes and do laundry…I’ve always apologized for her when she brings up this subject but deep down…I never liked it..Since my childhood I thought that women are equal to men and if he gets dirty and do all the hard work she should do it as well…I remember after pretending to help Lucy..That I’ve always convinced my brother to cover for me so that I could spend more time in the stables…I know that at my age every girl’s dream is to own a pony and I had a pony..Well not like everybody else’s pony..Actually I had something even better my grandfather owned a horse… a really old black horse that we called Mr black…we loved that horse like it was a member of our family…I remember falling asleep on its back I also remember that my father used to trick me with candies and sweets so that I get off his back and get into the house …I remember..Waking up just keeping in mind that I’m going to see Mr black and play with him every day long… I remember that we had a lot of animals and when I was young I couldn’t memorize all of the names if I was going to name them each by a different name…so my brother and I we came up with a solution…we actually had a Spanish neighbor that came to visit my grandparents really often..she talks English but she has that sweet accent..that I was really found of..i actually sat in front of her every time she comes just to listen to what she is saying and try to figure it out…but I recall that every time she saw me she said “ohh guapa chica” so I decided to call my animals likewise I’ve called my favorite puppy guapa chica then when that puppy gets older and another puppy comes along…I give the name to the new one…and for the rest of the animals I gave them names such as “guapita” “ chicita” “guapitaco” “chiciano” I mean names that sounded like Spanish but weren’t actually .and the names where transferred from generation to the other…for exemple my brother’s dogs where called “chiciano” all my grandma’s cats where called “guapita” my grandpa’s cows where all called “chicagua” a combination of chica and guapa…any way I had the most impressive childhood ever I enjoyed the calm quiet and beautiful farmhouse that my grandparents owned and I recall precisely the time when the weekend is over and we have to pack and return back home… I remember the time when we get into the car I just feel like someone is pulling my heart out of its place I just…I always look at my grandma’s face who is cover her sadness with a worm smile…and my grandpa who keeps turning his face in order not to show his tears..it was always like that our goodbye..it is like we’ll never see each other ever again..it is like next week we’re not going to meet or something…any way I remember crying all the way from the farmhouse to our house…I recall everything but I mostly remember that I really miss going there..and really hate remembering that going there now is not the same I hate remembering that now nothing is really the same…Mr beenks passed out lucy quitted surving us because she got to old for that…and for the animals…well after Mr black is dead I never cared about them…even my grandparents selled most of them…now the farmhouse is just like a really really big house with a very very beautiful terraces trees and flowers…





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