The house was once quite grand in the eyes of its owners, with more than enough room and furnishings to be comfortable. I spent my childhood visiting this place nearly every week. I stayed overnight once, but that was when I was eleven.
The house was breezy in the Summertime, the windows nearly always wide open. In the Fall, boxelder bugs marched straight through the walls and crawled on the green walls and linoleum floors. When we were coming to visit in the Winter, someone would stoke the wood stove in the kitchen and the oil burner in the parlor. It was headache hot in there on Sunday afternoons. I know now that the heat was meant to be a kindness to the children, but I didn't appreciate it then. There was never a bathroom in the house and that is all I am going to say about that.
I thought that this routine of visiting every week would go on forever, as any child would. I didn't understand the constant change that is a compulsory part of life. When Great-grandma died at the age of 101, I was eleven. The regular visits stopped. We still visited often, but the caretaker siblings, the three unmarried children, were free to come over to our house or into town to my Grandma's house to visit their family.
It's been over thirty years since anyone lived in that house
It has been stripped it of all that once made it comfortable and pleasant.
I stopped by this week and was reminded of all the good memories this place holds.
It is still a beautiful spot in GriggsDakota.