Memorial Day Adventure Day 2, Part 11 - The Olson Farm
I just have to say again, for the record, Cannibal! The Musical is one of the best movies I have ever seen! I can't even believe those snobs at Sundance said it was "unwatchable." Its excellent! The songs are in my head constantly. OMG everyone who appreciates sick humor must go out and watch it at once!
I had a dream I dropped Peanut off in someone's front yard. Then the floods came, and I was on the top floor of a building on a military base, trying to call Peanut. I never knew what had happened to him. It was a little disturbing.
I keep meaning to take pictures of our friends, the wasps who have made their egg-filled abode between the windows in the kitchen. Oh, wait! They're NOT my friends! They're evil entities who do Satan's bidding, and soon Greg will prometherin the hell out of them! Is that a verb? Well it should be!
I know not everyone is at work this week, and I wanted everyone to see this entry, but I can't wait! This house was sooo spectacularly spooky! And for good reason! For this stop on our Tour de Tragic Death was the house my great-grandfather grew up in, and where his mother died of TB when she was in her early 20's and he was just 3 or 4.
The house is between Hansboro and Sarles. All that time I've spent in Sarles all those years, and I had no idea this fabulously freaky house was right down the road! Let's take a look! Let check out The Olson Farm...
My great-great-great grandparents built this farm. My great-great-grandmother, the one who died of TB, fell in love with a Scottish boy. That was my great-grandfather's father. But the Olsons didn't like Scottish folks, and they interfered. So my great-grandfather went to his grave not knowing who his father was.
Now I'm not a big fan of racism in any form, but I can't even wrap my modern brain around that kind of racism. I mean, you're all white. Come on! And don't you have anything better to do? I mean, you've got all kinds of nasty blizzards, cows to feed, chickens to... coop, crops to plant and water and harvest, your daughter's got the consumption, you have to raise her kids, and you've got time to hate on the Scots? Well, okay, they do have those freaky widow's peaks... and that Highlander, well, I know I'm jealous!
The sun was setting when we got there.
I realize last year on my Memorial Day Adventure, I went to another "Olson Farm." That was where my friend Bethany's great-grandfather used to farm. Seriously, there are too many Olsons in North Dakota!
A peek in the back door. Whoever farms the land now uses the house area for storage. We saw many tires.
I wanted to go in like mad. The vibes were all kinds of creepy. But me mum said hell no, the floor is Bad. If you look real close at this picture of the front door, you can see the floor, while intact, is at least 2 feet lower than it is supposed to be. So this is all the closer I got. :(
This pile o' stuff used to be the barn apparently. The foundation was fieldstone, and it was painted red.
heh. I like :)
This was back by the barn. A potential painting? Maaaaayybe...
I had a dream I dropped Peanut off in someone's front yard. Then the floods came, and I was on the top floor of a building on a military base, trying to call Peanut. I never knew what had happened to him. It was a little disturbing.
I keep meaning to take pictures of our friends, the wasps who have made their egg-filled abode between the windows in the kitchen. Oh, wait! They're NOT my friends! They're evil entities who do Satan's bidding, and soon Greg will prometherin the hell out of them! Is that a verb? Well it should be!
I know not everyone is at work this week, and I wanted everyone to see this entry, but I can't wait! This house was sooo spectacularly spooky! And for good reason! For this stop on our Tour de Tragic Death was the house my great-grandfather grew up in, and where his mother died of TB when she was in her early 20's and he was just 3 or 4.
The house is between Hansboro and Sarles. All that time I've spent in Sarles all those years, and I had no idea this fabulously freaky house was right down the road! Let's take a look! Let check out The Olson Farm...
My great-great-great grandparents built this farm. My great-great-grandmother, the one who died of TB, fell in love with a Scottish boy. That was my great-grandfather's father. But the Olsons didn't like Scottish folks, and they interfered. So my great-grandfather went to his grave not knowing who his father was.
Now I'm not a big fan of racism in any form, but I can't even wrap my modern brain around that kind of racism. I mean, you're all white. Come on! And don't you have anything better to do? I mean, you've got all kinds of nasty blizzards, cows to feed, chickens to... coop, crops to plant and water and harvest, your daughter's got the consumption, you have to raise her kids, and you've got time to hate on the Scots? Well, okay, they do have those freaky widow's peaks... and that Highlander, well, I know I'm jealous!
The sun was setting when we got there.
I realize last year on my Memorial Day Adventure, I went to another "Olson Farm." That was where my friend Bethany's great-grandfather used to farm. Seriously, there are too many Olsons in North Dakota!
A peek in the back door. Whoever farms the land now uses the house area for storage. We saw many tires.
I wanted to go in like mad. The vibes were all kinds of creepy. But me mum said hell no, the floor is Bad. If you look real close at this picture of the front door, you can see the floor, while intact, is at least 2 feet lower than it is supposed to be. So this is all the closer I got. :(
This pile o' stuff used to be the barn apparently. The foundation was fieldstone, and it was painted red.
heh. I like :)
This was back by the barn. A potential painting? Maaaaayybe...