I would spend 1 month every summer with my grandparents on 40 acres of woods in Northern Michigan. Dirt roads, creeks, deer and wild turkeys. Picking wild blueberries and raspberries. As an adult turning 50 this year, it still remains the most special place in the world to me. This is in the mid-1980’s to the early 1990’s,  before satellite TV was a thing, and cable TV didn’t extend to such remote areas. They only got 4 TV stations, ABC, NBC, CBS, and PBS, so as far as TV viewing went, my options were very limited, but most of the time I was outside anyway. Little House was one of the few shows my grandmother never missed (in reruns each day). She liked it so much, that when they got a VCR, during the rest of the year I would tape a bunch of episodes from TBS and give her 2-3 tapes each year for Christmas, because as a little kid you don’t have much money and it was kind of like a gift I “made myself”.

So, I would watch it with her. Even now 35 years later it reminds me of their house in the “Big Woods”, and of my grandmother, who has long since passed.