We visited my mother's family, too, at my Grandpa Prater's farmhouse in Garrett, but it was sort of boring -- impenetrable Kentucky accents, smoking and drinking, endless discussions of things that happened 100 years ago back in the hills.
And no one to play with, except for my Cousin Buster. Sometimes my Uncle Paul would play -- until the summer after 3rd grade, when he got married and turned into an adult. I have only a few solid memories: swimming in the pool down the road, catching frogs, fishing, having milkshakes with his friends, learning how to "pee in the wind" (with the wind blowing away from you, so the stream is carried a long way).
And the Naked Man in the Peat Bog
"Why doesn't Grandpa tell him to move out?" I asked, already aware of property rights.
Paul thought for a moment. "He's been living here a lot longer than we have, more than a hundred years."
The full post, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.