Dad was born in Martin in an old brick home. Later in life, with a family of his own, he went back to that old brick home, tore it down, and salvaged all the lovely old brick.
He had us kids labor with the sweat of our brows... chipping the old cement away and cleaning them up for future use. They've been used in a variety of ways and in useful places.
One day when I was visiting mom and dad, I asked if I could take some and make a patio out of them. "Yes, you can", dad said. And so I hauled some of those lovely old bricks to my house in Brigham and built me a backyard patio out of them. When we sold the house, I took them all out, hauled them to Willard with me. Today the landscapers made a new place for them. They sit at the base of the rock wall and waterfall, just behind the hot tub in the back yard. I am going to put a planter of colorful flowers on them. Aren't the old bricks absolutely lovely!
4 comments:
They look so nice.
I don't know what is going on with my computer but it won't let me comment on your main blog site. Your blog on mom was very nice. I am glad you have the spirit so near and you are learning and growing. I am happy you took a picture of her crooked feet. They are painful to look at but a reminder of how much a part of her later life they have been.
they do look nice--we were just admiring the brickwork behind the stove in mom's basement the other day. Is it the same brick?
I never knew the story behind the brick. Now I must have some for sure.
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