The Old Homestead

I think it was some of my great-great grandparents on my dad's side that actually were homesteaders in eastern Montana.  (I think on my mom's side my great-grandparents homesteaded in central Montana).  Most of my Dad's family grew up in these rather barren hills, farming and ranching.  

Dad with his family in '68

Though even in these modern times, common amenities can still be lacking (most notably cell phone service and air conditioning in the summer), our family has gathered here for vacations, reunions, and to help with the branding.  With the death of my grandfather, our family has again congregated here, conscious of the fact that such gatherings may become less common in the coming years as cousins grow up and find less to draw us back here.  We're trying to make the most of the opportunity.

Since we don't know when next we might see it again, Larissa and I took the opportunity to visit the ranch today (even though it is not technically where any of our relatives homesteaded, as far as I know).  

The roads were passable, though quite muddy, with banks of snow still piled on either side.  

 

We made it to the ranch where we admired the new roof on the barn...which matched the red roads pretty well. 

No one had lived in the house since August, but it looked much the same as I remembered it.  Same pictures of family or western themes proudly displayed.

The same furniture in the same arrangements.

I didn't remember seeing this afghan before...but I decided I liked it an needed to figure out how to make it.

We wandered outside a while, admiring the barn some more, inside and out.

Larissa pretended to be a cow

We said hello to some cute little wild horses.  

 And visited the tractor that Granddad bought but never got to see.

Meanwhile, this horse kept a careful eye on that suspicious looking cow.  

We waded through mud, water, and snow.

And said a final farewell to house and barn.