This is the house my family lived in until I was six years old. My grandparents built it when they homesteaded the land. In the corner of the house between the front porch and my old room there is a beautiful old honeysuckle tree.
Each year I go back and look at it and think the poor thing has finally died. It’s hard to grow trees on the prairie.
But each year it surprises me and the leaves wiggle their way out and pretty soon the little pink buds of the blooms burst open.
I wish you could smell it! It’s one of my favorite country scents, right up there with freshly cut alfalfa and the air after a good rain.
And horse sweat. Don’t ask me why, but horse sweat actually smells good.
Right, Jiggalicious?
