My Home........Spring Glen, Utah

Misty. She was truly my very own. From the time of her birth until I sold her when I got married. There is much to tell about her. I was the only one in my family that ever rode her.

She let one other person ride her, my boyfriend at the time. He made her mean. I felt really bad.
Apache and I. I joined a riding club that was taught by Cherrill Marx. I joined it when I was 11 and was a member until I turned 15 years old. I think she just got kind of tired of it and quit having it. I took part in some rodeo's and parades when I was a member of the club.
This is the house I grew up in. My father built it. I lived in it three of it's stages. Dad built the back part of the house after I left home. When Dad bought it it was just a basement. I have many memories of living in the basement. My Dad was a trapper . He trapped a lot of Beaver and Muskrats and guess where he would stretch their hides. You got it. Right in the basement where we lived. I remember the hides hung from the ceiling on their stretchers, many of the muskrat hides were stretched then leaned against the walls to dry out. I don't know how my mother put up with it. All I can say is that she must have loved him a lot.

It was while living in the basement that I got in my first serious accident. I was just learning to walk and I happened to pick up a glass bottle and started carrying it across the room. I lost my balance and fell. I cut my left wrist on a piece of the bottle. It cut clear to the bone. My Dad scooped me up and ran me to Price to get a Doctor to fix me up. He kept his thumb across my cut so He could keep the flow of blood down. When we got to Price the Dr. wouldn't see me because he was on a break between patients. My Aunt Alma Rae worked for him and she got really mad at him and told him to get out there and take care of me, that I was bleeding to death. When my Dad took his thumb off my cut blood spattered all over him. He must have been really mad because he had to come and take care of me, my tiny wrist took 27 stitches to close it. He didn't do a very good job and it left a scar that I have carried all my life. I can't spread my thumb very far and if I bump my wrist just right it sends sharp pains up my arm.

I did survive the incident though to my parents relief.

The second phase of the house was to go from a basement to a framed in house. My father was very creative. He obtained some railroad ties from the railroad and framed the whole house in railroad ties. That sure did make the house strong. He put a plywood door on the front that didn't lock, but we really didn't need a lock in those days. Dad got all the rooms in. It was a two bedroom home at that time with a large living room, Kitchen, and a dining room. After Bill was born the house was put on hold. Dad decided to go to College and get a degree so that he could work for the Fish and Game Department. We packed up and moved to Logan, Utah. Grandma and Grandpa Bates moved into the basement. They lived there for 5 yrs and grew the most wonderful raspberry patch in 10 counties.

We lived in Logan for 5 years while Dad went to school. Carol and Kelley joined the family while we lived here. After Dad graduated and got hired by the Fish and Game Department, we moved to Parowan, Utah. Grandpa Bates died while we were moving. Grandma went to work in the National Parks after Grandpa died so the house in Spring Glen stood empty for 4 years.

Dad got transfered to the Price office after Steven was born, so back to Spring Glen we went to a house that was just a frame. We had to live in the basement for awhile. I hated taking showers in the old cement shower that was there. I hated the whole basement thing. Phase 3 of the house was mobilized. Dad hurried and got the two bedrooms done and the bathroom. We still had a plywood door on the front. I was so glad that the bathroom got put in first. We moved upstairs and all 6 of us were put in one bedroom where we stayed for about a year and a half. Mom and Dad took the other one. We still had to do our cooking downstairs. Mom had me doing dishes when I was 10 years old. I can remember standing at the sink and being scared while I did them because everyone else went upstairs after our meals. Dad worked dilegintly to get the rest of the house done, it was quite a process. He got the living room and the dining room done then went on to the Kitchen. He got all the cabinets in , the sink and the snack bar. While he was putting the cabinets in he decided to put the doors on them but he didn't attach them. He wanted to see how they would look. He left to do something and I guess he forgot about those doors not being attached. Mom came into the kitchen and was so excited about seeing those doors on the cabinets. She reached up to open one of them and the whole door came down on her hitting her head. She was so mad and ran into her bedroom and cried for a long time. My Dad didn't forget about that one for awhile. Finally the house was done and then Dad started on the Attic bedrooms so that we didn't have to share just one bedroom. It didn't take him long to get them done then all us girls went upstairs. I had the smaller room to myself and my sisters shared the large room. It was so good to have some space.

There is so much more to tell about growing up in that house which I will do later. I h ave to tell you that the most exciting thing about moving back to Spring Glen was getting my first horse I could call my own. She was a Brown and White paint, half Arabian, and her name was Apache. Oh how excited I was to get her. Three years after I got her Dad had her breed to an Arabian Stallion that was in Emery County. Misty was born in April of my 13th year. How I loved her, she was so wild and Apache was so protective of her that it was hard to do anything with her. As she grew, I just patiently worked with her and took her through the steps of breaking her. When she was two years old I finally got the nerve to get on her. She didn't do anything. She was so good. It wasn't long until I had gotten her used to a saddle and soon I was riding her. There are many stories to tell about these two horses which I shall go into later in my blogging.

My last thought on this house is that it was always home to me, from my birth until Mom and Dad sold it and moved to Price. And in my mind I always think of that house as "There is no place like Home.