Persimmons, Our Sweet Memory

Three years ago next month we drove away for the last time.  We knew it was coming, and had been preparing for it over two years.  That made it none the easier.  We were packing up and leaving our mothers’ beloved home, Tag-Along Farm in Alleghany County, Virginia.  It had been sold, and the time had come for our final adieu.  We two sets of twins had buried our mother, emptied the house, divided up those treasures we wanted and hoped would remind us of the twenty-five plus years we have so loved this land and farm our mother was devoted to.

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The persimmons are ripe!

 

The four miniature horses, left from Mom’s many years of breeding, showing and selling miniatures,  came to live with this PFO.  They have been happily living here on the new farm for over two years.  Instagram, texting and emails are a fun and easy way to keep everyone up-to-date on the Littles and what they are doing.  They are busy entertaining folks who visit out here at Blue Rock Horses & Farm.  They love company, attention, and especially treats.  They all are seniors, BR being the oldest.  He is 30 years old.  They were all foaled on our mother’s farm.  The pressure is on, for this PFO has three sets of eyes lovingly interested in their welfare!  It is an easy, privileged job.

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BR is the oldest.  He is 30 years old.

 

And now the persimmons are ripe and dropping off the trees.

Clearing fence rows has been a big, ongoing job our Farm Manager, who has deftly handled this mess for the past several months.  He is big, and taking on big jobs is extra-fun for him.  This is good, because these fence rows have not seen a trimming in many years.  The best part—he has cleared out the persimmon trees!  If the Littles could speak, they would be cheering!

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It took no time for Raggedy to ask for his treat!

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Snowbell knew exactly what was in store for her.

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They ate them so fast, a photo could not catch it!

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Yum, yum, Gone!  Clarette says.

So as the sweet treats are joyfully consumed by the chunky, happy minis, this PFO drifts back to a sweet time in younger days.   Days on a beloved farm laughing and sharing life with our mother and one another.   Sweet, sweet persimmons…

2 thoughts on “Persimmons, Our Sweet Memory

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