Sallie Mock Journal Three Farmhouse

Having done some traveling around the world, there have been many places that have left some strong images in my memory. Despite this, there is one place in this country that I still revisit in my mind on a somewhat regular basis. Some of my earliest memories are of this farm house we rented every summer in Door County, Wisconsin. It was owned by a family named Bly, who were from Iceland. This area of Door County was known for its cherries. Our farm had cherries, but also grew what was called "Indian corn," apples, and regular corn. I'm sure other foodstuffs were grown but those are the ones I remember.
I remember our farmhouse as being a very open and bright place. There were lots of windows where the sun spilled into the rooms. It had to be a decent-sized place to accomodate me, my parents and my nine brothers and sisters. Yes Nine. I mostly remember running and playing in the fields, jumping around in the hay, being thrown around in the hay by my brothers. My brothers would swing from ropes inside the barn and land safely in hay. There were little shacks that you had to climb a short set of ladder steps. I think they were storage sheds. Anyway, we use to play "Jail." "Jail" was basically "Hide and Seek," but after you were found, you were thrown in "jail" until everyone was found. It actually was never a sinister thing. It was fun.
Every morning we took eggs from the chickens and saw the Bly boys milking the cows. I would always try to pet the cows. Somehow it wasn't like petting our dog, Mickey. The Blys were a funny group. Whenever you asked them a question, you usually got a "Nope" or a "Yup" answer. They were very nice people, just not very big on conversation.
Because we were there in the summer, it was usually warm enough to swim in Green Bay. There was a beach nearby the farm where we went swimming. Having spent my time there in the warm months, I have nothing but positive memories of the place. If there was one sort of "traumatic " memory for me of the farmhouse , it would have been the Pump House.
Plenty of you are too young to remember such places. A Pump House was literally a small building, barn, house, etc.,that kept the electricity running for the entire property. There was a constant, loud thumping sound emanating from it. Basically, it was like an engine room. Being little, I wasn't allowed in there. My brothers told me that the thumping noise I heard was of people getting their heads chopped off. And I believed them! Nevermind , I had no idea who these "people" were. I think they would just vaguely say "bad people" were getting their heads chopped off. That was enough for me to stay out of there.
It's funny in a sense: I haven't been to the farm in Door County in probably 32 years, but I still have fond memories of the place and think of it. Perhaps like everyone else, it is sometimes nice to remember innocent times.