A well-worn path led down the hill to the toilet located far enough to cut the odor and avoid contamination of our well. Mama was vigilant about sanitation and shoveled lime into the pit to aid decomposition and screened the open back to foil her chickens who considered the flies and maggots a tempting buffet. Chickens are not known for their Continue reading
memoir
Missing my Mom on her Birthday
I love this tender story from Lorieb!
Farm Life: Gotta Have Guts
Repost
Daddy loved home remedies and dosed his kids and livestock readily. Mother did run interference for us on cow chip tea and coal oil and sugar, but did let him load us with sulphur and molasses for summer sores. We never got summer sores, probably because we reeked so much we didn’t tempt mosquitoes. I do appreciate Mother for putting her foot down when his ideas got too toxic. No telling what kind of chromosome damage she saved us. Continue reading
You Catch More Flies
The school was buzzing about the play. The community was putting on a play at the school. The adults, not the kids! According to Sarah Nell, the snottiest girl in school, her mama was the teacher’s best friend. Her mama was going to be in the play! Maybe my mama could be in the play. I flew home at noon to tell the news. Mama was shocked! She squashed that idea like a bug. “No, I’m not going to be in a play. I am not interested in that kind of foolishness! I have more to do than get up and parade myself around in front of folks like I think I’m something special. Now wash your hands and eat. You’ve got to get back to school on time.”
I was very interested in that kind of foolishness. “Well, can we go to the play? It only costs a quarter for adults and a dime for kids. They’ll have an ice cream social afterwards.
“No. That would be close to a dollar for all five of us. Our rent is three dollars a month. I am already doing Miss Lonie’s wash to pay that. We don’t have money to waste on a play. It’s going to take me all day today to finish Miz Watson’s dress. I need the dollar I get from that to put on the bill at Miss Lonie’s store. I’m hopin’ there will be enough scraps left from Miz Watson’s dress to trim that dress I’m makin’ for you. I have two matchin’ feedsacks saved back for it.” She went on with her budgeting plans as my spirits plunged, knowing I wasn’t going to the play. I dawdled my way back to school not wanting to admit to Sarah Nell I wasn’t going to the play. I needn’t have worried. She wasn’t interested in me, anyway.
The evening of the play, I watched the comings and goings at the schoolhouse enviously, as long as Mama let me stay outside. For once, living almost on the school yard was not an advantage, giving me a prime view of all I was missing. Had I even suspected what I was missing, I’d have grieved even harder. It seems Sarah Nell’s mother was in the middle of the performance when Sarah Nell swallowed a fly, along with her ice cream. Panicking, she raced to her mother on the stage. Just as Sarah Nell reached the heroine, she vomited copiously all over her, bringing the performance to an end. There was no encore.
Annie’s Fish Hookectomy
We have a nice little wet-weather creek that runs along our property line, cutting through the middle of the wooded lot next door. My kids played in the creek and in the woods all the time. They were a few years older than Greg, our neighbor’s boy, so by the time he played there, he had Annie, our Dalmatian and other kids from the neighborhood with him. Sometimes, I think Greg was the only person Annie really liked.
Greg got in from school and made his way straight to the pantry, just like always. He filled up, chatted a while, and took Annie out to play. Before long, he and Annie were back. “How do you get a fish hook out of a dog’s mouth?”
I thought it was it was the lead in to a joke. “”I don’t know. How?”
“I don’t know. But I was crawfishing with a piece of bacon for bait on my line and somehow, Annie jumped and swallowed the hook, bacon, and all. I just can’t imagine how it happened!”
I could. Annie pranced right behind Greg, proud of the long string hanging from her mouth. Tentatively, I pulled it. It was stuck. Off to the vet. As you can see from the xray above, the fish hook was imbedded in her stomach. It had to be surgically removed, along with about five hundred dollars from my wallet. Annie moped around for three or four days, with nothing to do but brag about her surgery. Greg made himself scarce, not even checking on her.
Unmentionable, Thrilling Sex
Repost:
Anything regarding sex was dark and unmentionable in mixed company. Children were not to embarrass adults by noticing any veiled reference made in their presence, never asking why any adult was in the hospital, and vacating the room if the words complications, hormones, or nature came up in conversation. Above all, women should never refer to their “period.” Continue reading
Sign the Pledge
Reblog from Art by Robert Goldstein
my wife is gone to God now
butchcountry67 just lost his beloved wife reblog
Blame It On Jamie Lee Curtis
Reblogging from this Brilliantly silver lady at Silver in the Barn!
Why I would imagine that the color of my hair would hold an iota of interest to you, dear reader, cannot be explained other than to say I learned the hard way that it’s a subject that can ignite opinion, solicited or not.
I was serving as parliamentarian for a civic organization a few years ago and during a meeting, one of the members, henna-tressed, suddenly blurted out “What are you doing to your hair?”
“Nothing, really. I’ve just decided to stop coloring it.”
Stunned silence. Or as the hipsters say, “Crickets.” Just like that I was able to stop the proceedings of our monthly meeting. What power.
The president of the group, a woman in her mid-70s with expensively highlighted blonde hair, then offered this little gem: “But Barbara! You’re much too young to go gray!”
Tell that to the melanin levels in my hair follicles, please.
And as I looked out at the women around…
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Nutsrok 