Patterns and Textures in Grandpa's Life

This was my tenth Christmas as a married woman. We make this annual pilgrimage to my husband's ancestral home and it's always wonderful. We spent a night with Grandpa on his farm after the rest of the extended family left. I started seeing The Farm with different eyes and tried to capture the every day patterns and textures that comprise "the farm." We slept under a quilt that Grandma stitched by hand and then tied. She made those quilts from scraps of clothing worn out by her family. The floor upstairs is scuffed from the kids rollerskating inside. Yellow and pink bathroom tile must have been all the rage in the fifties. The wallpaper, the barn door, the wind-sculpted snow drifts, the gravel road, the snow fence, the inside of the mailbox...just wanted to remember some of these things.