Time once again, to travel the old familiar road..the one that leads me home..the one that leads back to the prairie.
Our Secret Get-Away
I worked alongside my grandparents as often as I could; both steady and determined to get every ounce out of a day. In those rare moments when the work seemed to get the best of me and frustration was setting in an amazing little ritual would happen. At just the right moment (when no one else was around) he'd suggest we hop in the truck. Yes! Oh, could it be?
Climbing in to the old blue farm truck- the one you needed a screwdriver to start- Grandpa would give me a sideways look. Those crystal eyes held a spark as his face light with a teasing grin. Down the road we crept to the gas station- the one down the road a ways. Our secret get away- there in the station we stood together looking over the ice cream treat freezer. Every time we pondered trying something new; he would leave me to consider the options while he chatted with the men about family being in from out of town and the price of grain this year.
We always settled on one of two things- the ice cream sandwich or the drumstick (I have always been partial to the drumstick!). Out in the parking lot, Grandpa lowered the tail gate on the old truck where we sat in the shade of the station sharing a treat together- just him and me. No words spoken- just a shared moment with a forbidden treat. Grandma would have a fit if she knew what we were up to -spoiling supper! for sure.
The little get away always ended with our pact- just between you and me, and be sure to eat your supper. A precious moment...a shared secret...our little get away.
To this day I can't pass an ice cream freezer in a gas station without lingering over the selections; pondering the past..I'm still partial to the drumstick.