After dropping off the Tahoe for servicing in Blackfoot, LC and I walked down to a coffee shop, drank coffee and shared a muffin.
At 9 in the morning the coffee shop was one of the few businesses in town that was already open. Most businesses do not open in Blackfoot until 10.
With bellies full of coffee and cranberry muffin I grabbed LC's hand, reached up to wordlessly kiss him on the cheek, and we walked outside.
The sky was grey and I instinctively pulled the zipper of my rain shell higher.
It was cool outside, and very damp, but the sky was valiantly trying to push the clouds out of the area.
Every single time we have gone to Blackfoot over the past year we have driven by the Idaho Potato Museum, pointed at it and promised ourselves that we would one day stop in and check it out.
The giant potato always makes me smile.
I know that it is there to both announce the location of the museum and highlight the importance of this crop to the local community, but it is so hokey and small town that it always amuses me.
The museum was located a few blocks from the coffee shop and we slowly made our way in that direction. The town was quiet.
The museum is located in what was once an old train station.
It is located next to the tracks and on a small piece of land that contains both green space and multiple rusted and beautiful pieces of old farming equipment.
As we got closer I could feel LC speed up. All of these rusty pieces of silent art were foreign to me, but LC was excited to see them.
He had grown up on a farm.
He knew these pieces ...................
As we slowly wandered along the paved walkway I alternated between looking at each piece of equipment and snapping pictures, and watching and listening to LC.
Excitedly he told me what each piece was, what it was used for, which ones he knew intimately because he had used them while growing up.
I only half listened, more interested in looking at the lines of each piece than learning what they were actually used for while in operation, and was pleased to hear the excitement in his voice.
LC had preachers for parents. Preachers who traveled constantly from town to town and state to state, and who left LC with family friends for many months at a time when it was inconvenient for a young boy to be in tow.
And it was inconvenient often.
He loathed the unsettled and inattentive life that he had while living with his parents.
He loved the attentive and caring life that he had while living with a stable farming couple.
It is this couple (and these good memories) that I saw in his face as my Mountain Boy described farming equipment to me.
It was about the good memories of good people.
It wasn't about the silent pieces of equipment that stood before me..................
The Blackfoot sign sitting on the roof of the old train station turned Idaho Potato Museum................
Surprisingly it took us 30 minutes to wander through these old farming relics, but eventually we made it to the front doors.
LC was excited to be going in.
I did not have a great deal of interest in farming equipment and well...........potatoes..........but I had been curious for a long time about what a state potato museum contained, and we still had a while before the Tahoe would be done.
We climbed the stairs and walked into the building, curious to see what we would see................