at home with the palms

This week Ben, his parents and I have been able to spend a few days with Grandma Pat and Bankaw on their farm. The older I get, the stronger my sense of homecoming is when I visit this place. As we jostle down the dirt road to the farm yard, I see the familiar sign that reads "Founded in 1896." I know that I'll hear grandpa's story about how he has only moved 100 feet in his whole life (from his childhood home to the one he and my grandma built next door), and I look forward to sleeping in the room in the basement that was once my mom's.

It has also been a joy to be here in the heart of summer. We have feasted on ripe watermelon, corn and peaches, picked vegetables in the garden and eaten dinner in the yard as the sunset colors the sky gold and pink. We also got to play with the latest batch of kittens, enjoy a round of Wyoming Rummy (which Bankaw won) and eat as much of Grandma's syrup as we can stand at breakfast.

It's good to be with people who know you, in a place that you know.