Finding the wooden leg

Tales from the Backyard…  My grandparents lived about 120 miles away in the little town of Exland, in Wisconsin and one Christmas we were going to visit.  My dad had just bought a new car but didn't take the extra speed into consideration so we left at 4:00am as usual.  We arrived at 6:45 and they were still in bed and not happy.  I remember my grandpa stoking up the old pot bellied stove and a little later it began hopping around as he had stuffed it to full and left the draft wide open.  It just began to woof, woof, woof, and my dad and him trying to get it back under control.  It could easily have knocked down the stovepipe and burned the apartment down.  They lived upstairs of a large garage and the rooms were massive.  Us kids slept in the back portion with broken windows and I remember waking in the morning with snow on my feather tic, probably why I still sleep with the windows open whatever season.  The thing I remember most was when my grandpa called for me to sit on his knee, a real treat from such a stern man, and finding something solid around his knee asked what that was.  He pulled up his pants to show me his wooden leg and I jumped down running into the kitchen yelling “grampa has a wooden leg, grampa has a wooden leg”, as if no one knew.  They all laughed.  I recently visited the old town and it has been obliterated from the map, not a building standing, only the sign along the road and the cemetery.