Blue Gate Farm

We spent this past weekend at my Papa's farm in Ohio. My 'Papa' is my grandpa - my mom's dad. He's 80 years old and is still running the farm he grew up on - the "Bule Gate Farm" The farm is located in Lowellville, Ohio, just outside of Youngstown, one mile from the Pennsylvania border. My great-great-great-great grandfather (or so) first acquired the 80 acres of land in 1802, before Ohio was even a state. Back then it was the 'wild west.' The house my Papa and Nana live in was constructed sometime in the mid-1800's, and a second house was built on the property later on, when the land was divided between 2 sons, each receiving 40 acres. My Papa still owns the 40 acres his father owned, and also purchased approximately 6 of the other 40, following a lot of litigation and heartache surrounding the death of his cousin who owned the land (but did not specify who would get the land in his will). So, my Papa's 45+ acres includes two houses, a barn, a pond, half a dozen other out buildings, and apple orchard, and corn fields. All of this he tries to keep up on his own. He is actually trying to renovate the second house so that his sister, my great aunt, can move in. Jason and I were glad to be able to go down to help for a weekend, but felt as though we should stay for several weeks and months instead. There is a lot of work to be done, and while my Papa is in good health, there is more work than any one man could possibly do.

We did find a lot of humor over the weekend with my Nana. She is in a wheel chair and has alzhiemer's, but also has a kind spirit and a great sense of humor. I know she doesn't mean to be funny, but she cracks us up! Jason and I were laughing half the way home as we retold Nana stories from the weekend. Like how she opened a gift from my brother - a movie - and asked if it was pornography. Or when the pastor told the congregation in church that he was going to show us a slide and she loudly blurts out "But, why?" And how she insisted she had never seen a red pepper in her life. It is in reality very sad that she often times cannot remember what she did an hour ago, and sometimes forgets her children and grandchildren's names. But, we are fortunate that in her sickness, she has retained her sweetness, she laughs often, and is truly loved.

While at the farm, there was a lot of apple-picking. My papa said it was his best crop in years. The apples were beautiful, and we made out like bandits, bringing a trunk full of them home with us. If anyone wants some amazing apples, he's selling them for only $10 a bushel, but you'll have to drive to Ohio to get them!