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Spring Fever

Aunt Jen

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You know, I didn't think about this at first. My getting more interested in SASS lately has more to do with getting caught up on other things.


But lately, with thinking about WR in warm Arizona, getting my new mule-eared coach gun....I have found myself thinking mire about gentle spring times---specifically, golden mornings in the country with dew on the fence posts.


Sitting here, starving, getting ready to give blood for a rare routine physical, I find myself thinking about our old farm in Kansas, south of Dodge City. The mornings there---so peaceful. You could see for miles over winter wheat peeking up through the soil, see Sugar out in the pasture with her colt.


Not a breath of wind, you could hear birds--- I so clearly remember this one that used to sing from the trees. I never saw him; I don't know his name. But I know his whistle, and it says everything's alright for a while.


On such a morning, i could fall in love, and in fact, I guess I did. Just not back then.


So why would SASS, WR, and a coach gun take me back there?


I guess that's the wrong question, because on reflection, I suspect it was my childhood around the farm that, instead, brought me to SASS.


The Farm is gone, now, that land of adventure we were always happy to see. Both grand parents gone, mom gone. Dad was always gone, even when he (rarely) came around. The farm house, barn, sheds, bunk house, Sugar and her colt, the fence around the yard...all gone. Even the "half mile" we used off the county dirt road to go down to the house. All gone.


The only thing that remains, and I do have a picture of them, are the heavy gate fence posts where the half mile meets the county road. The rest of it is level wheat fields, some corporate company farms.


Yet I can so clearly still see all the people, the animals, our dogs Mutt and Sparky---and the one-story, square house, the fence, the trees, fields, and feel the sunshine on my arms.


You can never go back. Things are gone. People are gone. Things are changed. And ibsm older.


But I can be here, now, and I can go forward.


I think that wonderful old time and place is part of what I get out of SASS and why I dress as CC.


It's kind of a nice place, and I'm looking forward to Spring.


Aunt Jen


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The mind is a wonderful thing. I can definitely relate to your description of the farm in Kansas. I had a farm in Wisconsin with the state forest across the gravel road that ran in front of our four room home. I can smell the pine trees, hear the whip-poor-will at night and the hoot of miscellaneous owls. Still remember mom warning us not to go into the woods in the spring, brother bear was about and hungry and he loved little boys for his breakfast. All has changed now - gravel road is highway. Farm land is no longer farm land. I do miss these things. But cowboy shooting gives me the opportunity to remember the fun I had shooting the 22 off the back porch with my dad.


STL Suomi

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