My very best memories are of growing up on my parents’ dairy farm; at the time I had no idea how good I had it. We had two creeks that ran through the farm; one of them was full of speckled trout and nearly everyday my brothers and I would go fishing along with the neighbors. We’d bring our catch home and Mom would fry it up for supper. When we weren’t fishing we’d be in the woods looking for signs of wildlife, playing cowboys and robbers or looking for a pirate chest full of gold. Little did I realize it but our lives were full of great golden times then. My Mother would put a lot of love into her cooking and canning and there was always plenty of good food to eat. We would all sit down at the dinner table to eat and talk about our day. Looking outside we’d see lots of birds at the bird feeder; there was plenty enough for our feathered friends too. Those are some truly golden memories.
Gary



