My first childhood memory
Visiting a farm
It was visiting a farm outside of Joliette, Quebec which is near Ottawa (or so I thought). I have no recollection of the visit to my nation's capital. I'm not sure but I could have been 3 or 4 years old at the time. My dad had bought a 1952 2-tone green Dodge with the exterior metal visor over the windshield that made it look more sporty than the other Dodges. I'm sure we went traveling that summer partly to show off the new car.
The farm is a picture in my mind that is much like that you would have if you had visited it yesterday. Even the aromas are still there in my mind. The smell of clover and straw and the aroma of honey that was served was the best food smell I can ever remember. Even the smell of cow manure was pleasant.
Upon entering the driveway, on the right hand side of the barnyard that would be about the size and shape of a football field in my mind, I watched the owner's homing pigeons returning to their shed which was about the size of a garbage dumpster.
From that point, a wire and post fence traveled along the entire length of the barnyard and split the chicken coop in half where one half was in the barnyard and the other in the pasture where there were several cows grazing. Upon entering the coop, you would here the instant panic of the chickens with so many people arriving at once. I guess they can sense the robbery that is about to take place or they sense the greater fear that they might be tonight's dinner.
I remember eating outside on a real picnic table for the first time. I have no idea what we ate but I'm sure it was extra delicious because it is very hard to beat homemade food eaten outdoors in the summer anywhere in Quebec. We drove from Toronto and the first memories that stick in my mind are this farm.
We crossed the paved road and went through another field and down a hill to a river or lake's edge. I don't know which but I was too young to enter the water so the steepness of the hill seems to be the thing that stood out the most.
The farmhouse is something I do not remember and the gracious people that we visited have blended into obscurity. My parents are long gone now, but this memory is still fresh and I cannot explain why. It is of little concern because my first really long memory is just simply a pleasant one. I'm sure it is why I always enjoy a visit to a farm no matter who's it is. I have never experienced that wonderful smell anywhere else. But I do love clover honey. I'm sure the visit to this farm is why.
This was an enjoyable time writing down my first real recollection of growing up. I strongly suggest that you take a crack at it.
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