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MY TREE HOUSE
My tree house was not a house but just a tree. I climbed way up almost to the top of a big Elm (we called it Ellem') tree so high you felt like you could touch the sky. There in my 'spot' there was a somewhat flat limb where I sat. There was a slightly rounded limb just right to lean back in, and a limb to rest my feet on. To top that there was three limbs in front of my seat' to lay my stuff' on. Just like my own private club house. I wrote in my diary, wrote poems, watched birds close like, even watched tiny little bird eggs hatch one day. The Mama bird stayed home with the kids and the Daddy bird brought food and fed his family. Just like my Mama and Daddy I thought. I had to use a ladder to climb up to the bottom limb so I could catch it and swing myself up to begin my climb. Oh what great times I had up there all secure in my own little world surrounded by that wonderful private chair' all my own. Only problem was I was not allowed to climb trees. Nope! Brenda climbed trees, Norman and Paul climbed trees, but Daddies little girl was not supposed to climb trees. Daddy wasn't home and I always suspected that Mama knew I climbed that tree. Never got around to asking though because if she didn't know then my get away was gone. Sometimes I would get skinned up on the bark getting up or down but not much attention was ever paid to that. That is just what kids do, They get skinned shins and bruises all the time. YEP! Sure nuff do. But lets talk about that ladder that I had to have to get up and down. One day I was up in that tree and Norman and Paul took my ladder down and took off through the pasture laughing their heads off. Well this is a fine kettle of fish I'm in now, I thought. Those little varmits anyway, and where the heck is Brenda when I need her? HUH? Brenda was sick that day but to my thinking that was no excuse. Heck fire no excuse at all. I decided not to go hollering right then and get caught in a tree, I just sat there thinking maybe the boys would come back and help me. HA! Wishful thinking on my part, they had probably already forgotten about me. Now often I sat up there half a day (and that is the reason I suspect Mama knew where I was) but knowing the ladder was gone I got antsy real fast and I wanted down from there. NOW! I tried to occupy myself watching the birds, lookin at the sky for odd shaped clouds, but heck there weren't any clouds. I got bored with that fast. I looked way over on the other side of the tree and there was a huge wasp nest just covered in those mean ol' red wasps. OH NO!, gotta get down from here now. I started to climb down farther and shushed a lizard off one limb but the next limb had something on it I was not going to fool with, No way No how was I gonna' try to go around a tree frog. NOPE!! I started climbing up again. I was getting pretty well flustered by now so I was really getting the scrapes and bruises fast. I was caught in the middle of a wasp nest and a tree frog. Well the wasp nest won out, I wasn't having me none of that frog! Nope! I had no idea what time it was and my mind was runnin' away with thoughts of never getting outta' that dad blamed tree again. In reality it was only about fifteen minutes but to me it was days and days. I started cryin'. I snotted and blubbered, and sobbed. Then I started screamin' to the top of my lungs, HEELLPP!!! Somebody help me!!! Of course Mama was there in a second. "Clydene, What in the world are you screamin' about?" she said. "Mama, I can't get down, the boys took my ladder. When I get my hands on them they are gonna' be sssorrryy!" Sniffle, slobber, sputter. Well during all this bellerin' and splutterin' My Daddy drove up. WOOPS! "Mama just go back in the house and don't tell Daddy where I am" I said. My Daddy had already seen me though and probably heard my screeches way up the lane. The jig was up! Mama was setting the ladder up and I was scramblin' down that tree quicker'n'a wink. If that tree frog was there I sure didn't see it cause my eyes were on Daddy. "Now Clyde you have to let Clydene be a kid, You are too protective of her, she can climb this tree as good as the boys can, didn't you see how she came down?" Daddy didn't say much but I saw pride in his eyes. Yep he was proud of his little girl just wasn't about to say it to me. Well I had climbed a tree when he said I couldn't. I knew that was wrong didn't I? Sure I did. I wasn't proud of me myself right now. Daddy just hugged me tight and we all went in the house. I got a lecture about not minding my Daddy and the boys got one for taking my ladder. They still thought it was funny I suspect. Now I think it is funny too. Didn't then,NOPE, Do now. YEP!
Tags: Treeladderwaspfrog
I always followed my Daddy everywhere. I was on his heels, in his way, and under foot always. I always loved to go with Daddy to feed the chickens, slop the hog, and feed our horse Ol' Dixie . I just loved to throw out that corn and watch the chickens scramble to snatch it up. If I got too close with my bare feet I'd wind up sometimes with blood coming out of a toe or two. Same with my hands when I searched under a hen for the egg. If the hen was wanting to set she never appreciated me taking her hatching egg. Next would be the hog. Now those things were smelly and sloppy but that never bothered me. I liked to see them roll around in the mud and mire, and loved to hear them grunt as they stuck their snout in the slop. I'm not sure what the slop consisted of. The bucket sat on the back porch. Mama poured dishwater, potato peeling's and other things in it. Daddy would then carry it out to the pen and mix some kind of feed in it and pour it in the trough for the hog. I think that is where the phrase, A pig will eat anything comes from. Next came Ol' Dixie and I liked this the best. I would run around to the other side of the barn and get there before Daddy did. I always reached in the big 100 lb. feed sack and get me a big ol' bite of that feed. I thought it tasted sooo' good. Still think it must have. What ever it was I guess it wouldn't hurt me cause' Daddy never said anything. One day I ran in there and was just about to put my hand in the sack when Daddy got me around the waist and hoisted me up and outta' there real fast. He put me down on the ground and said get the shovel. I ran and got it real fast and drug it back. Daddy didn't look away from the sack, just reached his hand out and I placed the shovel handle in it. I'd made the mistake before of handing Daddy the hoe by the wrong end and knew what to do this time with the shovel. "Now Get Back Clydene". By his tone I knew he meant Now, so I moved. "What's wrong Daddy", I said. "Be quiet Clydene", he said. I looked over at the feed sack then and saw it. I didn't know what kind it was then but was later told it was a Copperhead, a deadly snake. It had its head sticking up and its body coiled up ready to strike. I screamed then and Daddy didn't have The Look like Mama but he had the words and the way to say them and I clamed up. Since the sack was almost full Daddy had a clear view but by then I had my eyes closed and didn't see the whole scene but that snake met his 'waterloo', I do know that. Later as I heard the grown-ups talking about the incident they all agreed that an instinct had made Daddy aware of the danger. I had always got a hand full of that feed before, sometimes before Daddy even got to that side of the barn. But that morning Daddy hurried and got there. Said it was just a feeling. And they say only Mama's have that protective instinct. Heck! I know Daddy's have it too if they love their kids. And my Daddy sure loved us bunches.
Tags: Horsehogchickens
When I started first grade Brenda was in the second grade. She was seven month's older and her birthday fell so she could start before me. We both hated it. The morning I started to school Brenda and I were so sure that we could again be together all the time the way we had been all our lives. How wrong we were. We of course were in different rooms and only saw one another at recess. Well I dont know how Brenda made it through the first grade without me I just knew it was a hard time for me. Brenda was still shy and wouldn't ever speak up and I wasn't there to do it for her so she almost failed the first grade. Auntie thought it would be better the year I started, but it was not to be. Brenda wouldn't ask to go to the bathroom and she would wet her pants in class. At recess I would go running to Brenda's room and we would go out together to the playground. I don't think I even got aquainted with my class that year very well. And the reason was I cried till recess when I could see Brenda. We tried everything to stay together. One day we climbed a pear tree on the grounds and tried to hide when the bell signaled recess was over. Another we got in the toilet and stayed in there. Our teachers caught on to our little schemes and watched us very close. They even decided to separate us and not let us play together at all. Well Let me tell you when that happened we were not havin' any of that. Nosiree guys that aint'a gonna' work. We pulled sit downs and running from them, nothing was working. Well we had'ta do something so we hatched up a good scheme. We Thought. We sneaked down to the far end of the play ground and sat down. We sat there and when the bell rung the end of recess we both laid down. “Brenda now when the teacher gets here start crying and tell them we are both sick”. Well I guess Brenda was learning not to do everything I said anymore so she said “NO I aint'a gonna' do it Clydene I ain't, You do it”. “Oh Well My goodness Brenda you little stubborn thing just watch and do what I do”. It was Miss Sally and Miss Sullivan our teachers who came after us. I started crying and said “we are sick Miss Sally we've a'gotta go home. We wanna go home”. “Yeaw we are sick” Brenda said in a perfectly normal voice. “I hollered Brenda you are'a sposed' to cry, you aint cryin'”. Well that did it. If they hadn't already figured it out they sure did then. I had already been crying every day in class anyway so wasn't a very good idea for me to cry, and Brenda wouldn't do it so the jig was up. But I wasn't quiet ready to give up yet. I just set there and stubbed up like an old opossum and of course Brenda was good at that anyway so she did it too.. BUT------ It werent' a workin'. There weren't any Peach trees near by but the teachers didn't use them anyway. They had paddles and just happened to have them with them. They took us to the toilet. ( which was not far away. they were outside toilets don't ya know) and used those paddles. Then took us back to the classrooms and told everyone what we had done. To add insult to injury they sent notes home to our parents and they did have a peach tree. Yep I guess we learned another lesson though I really don't know what that one was cause we still wanted to be together. Had to tough that year out though and the next one. It was a small school and 3rd and 4th were in one room and 5th and sixth were in one room. So we were finally together again. Yep together till' she married and moved to Kansas, then we really had something to cry about. Was never the same again. But Hey we still had a lot of growing up to do and we were always glued together close. Sisters in all but name. GOOD NUFF'
Tags: Recesstoiletplayground
Have you ever just wanted to box someones jaws? I mean you'd just like to turn someone any which way but loose. Of course you can't and wouldn't do that. But I've sure wanted to A lady called here the other night and started a spiel about something she was selling. I thought that what it was but now I'm not sure.In the first place I couldn't understand a thing she was saying so I did just what I usually do. I hung up on her. She called back, “Thes is veely m'portent Meem”. “Well MEEM! It aint portant to me because I don't know what you are talking about”. And I hung up again. Next it was a recorded message with that same irritating voice. I hung up again. Next a call came and my caller ID showed private message. I never answer them. KER PLUNK AGAIN!!. The next time it said pleeze dial 55. KER PLUNK AGAIN!! I was thinking I wish that ol' bag would call back and not hide behind a recording.
My phone is on the do not call list but as you probably know you get them anyway now and then. I was really getting flustrated. My red neck was on fire and my southern charm had dropped by the wayside when the phone rang again. GOOD GRIEF, Now I've Had it! I told her, I can't understand you so would you please stop calling me because I'm ready to call the police unless you stop at once.” The nerve of that ol' bag, she said she couldn't understand me either and asked what kind of accent that was. WELL THAT WAS ENOUGH FOR ME!!! Now I'm hollering, or maybe you'd call it screeching. Till now I had called her honey a bunch of times which is just a part of my southern vocabulary. I had not wasted my sugah, or sweet pea on her. Here is what I said the next time the phone rang::---- “Lady I done tole you not to call hyer no more. You caint understand me and I sure caint understand you so what the hecks the point. If I could git my hands round your neck I'd squeeze yur goozle right out your butt, but first I'd cork yur butt with my foot.” My Pastors wife's sweet voice said “Clydene, what in the world is wrong with you”. Oh My Gosh it took some splainin to get outta that one. After I got my BP under control she started giggling, I started giggling and I felt better. I had a dream that night and let me tell you I beat the tar outta that blasted lady who had been pestering me. By golly I did just what I had told her I would do. Course it was my Pastors wife I told. Never pick up the phone and spout your mouth off without being sure who you are talking to. It could be your mother in law maybe.
Tags: Red Neck Whoops Sorry
I was born in the early 1940's and grew up in the 50's and 60's. You hear a lot of jokes about our childhood. They just have no way of knowing how it really was.! I remember some kids and their parents coming to our house sometime in that time frame. They were cousins from another state and must have been a big city. They thought we were so dumb and backward. The kids went with us to gather eggs in the hen house. They asked so many questions that Brenda and I looked at each other and made the crazy sign. Are they ripe? Did you put those eggs in the nest? Where did the chicken go to get the egg. How did that chicken carry a egg. Same with the milk. Pappa told them that brown cows made chocolate milk and they wanted to know if we fed the cows cocoa.
The annual salary then was less than 3,000 dollars in the early 50's. For Daddy it was a lot less. Yet, most of the time, only one parent had to work. Mamas stayed at home with a big smile to meet you when you got off the school bus. Grandma had a sorghum cake usually.
It was safe to send a six year old to the store to get a loaf of bread. We walked about a mile to Hall Parks store to get the bread. For a quarter, we could get the bread and enjoy a candy bar on our way back. That wasn't bad at all.
We didn't have air conditioning, so you left the windows and doors open. And you weren't afraid to do so. You knew every person in the community and their children. When a neighbor needed help, the neighborhood was there to lend a helping hand. When both parents did need to be away for a while, childcare meant leaving them with grandparents and aunts and uncles.
You had teachers who really cared and parents who were thankful for those teachers. If you got a paddling in school, you knew you were going to get another one when you got home. You could go to school and not worry about someone having a gun. And the only drug you had to worry about was being "drug" out of bed in the morning. Ah, those fresh sun dried sheets felt so good. You could go down to the theater and watch a Gene Autry movie, enjoy a coke and candy bar, all for 25 cents. Sunday's families went to church together, enjoyed the afternoon "Together". Kids played outside and parents relaxed inside.
Your Mamma knew how to make a cut knee feel fine (after the burn) and Daddy could fix anything that needed to be fixed.
You enjoyed fresh veggies from the garden, and the chickens ran loose in the yard. You gathered the eggs and milked the cow and harvested the garden right along beside your Parents.
Parents were respected and their rules were the law. Kids didn't talk back without suffering the consequences of a switch to the backside or bare legs. Kids were taught to have respect for our elders and those in authority. Kids were taught to show manners in their walk and talk. Please, Thank you.
Neighbors and friends corrected each others children.......and it was appreciated. They cared! You were taught patriotism and Christian values in school. You had prayer and the teacher read from the Bible. We had the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag. It was a wonderful and grand time in so many ways! If you got a switching there was no child welfare poking around claiming child abuse. We wore bell bottoms, and hip huggers after I went to high school. Did I say we? The word would be they. Daddy wouldn't have let me wear them even if we could have afforded it. I wore a dress that my Grandma made for me and I was as pleased as punch about it. Each family had only one car if they had one at all. Families visited and knew the neighbors. A handshake constituted a legal and binding contract. You kept what money you had in your pocket. We walked everywhere we went. Teens didn't have a car or the most of us didn't even have a bicycle. We went bare foot most of the time in the winter and all the time in the summer. Our shoes were for “Dress Up or school” and we kept them nice. Things have changed a lot in my 65 + years and I've seen it all. I've been here for all the new fangled things that my Mamma and Grandma never even thought of. I don't much like change. Things are changing too fast now and I'm struggling to stay still. I want things to be simple, warm, and safe the way they were. Wouldn't it be nice to stop time! Silly thought I know but it will be that way when we get to Heaven won't it?
Tags: Simple 40s& 50 S
When I was about 6 yrs. Old my Papa Thomas asked my Daddy to take him to see his Aunt Samarah. I'm not sure if she was his Aunt or some other relation but he called her Aunt. Papa called her Sa-mari. She was 90 yrs.old and lived in the home place in Swain Ar. with her Daughter Rhoda (RODY) and one of her sons. I can't recall his name. The house was way up in the mountains across hills and around curves. I remember thinking that we would never get there and if we did we would never find our way home again. The roads are paved now but then they were dirt roads full of pot holes and ruts. Daddy had an old Chevy. It was summer and of course no AC in cars then so the windows were all down. Daddy of course was driving and Papa in front with him. Mama sat in the back with my little Brother Norman and I. Papa had a dip of snuff in his mouth as usual. He would spit out the window and it would spray me through the back window where I sat behind him. Mama rolled up my window and cleaned me off best she could. I was hot and fussed about my window not being down. Norman was only two and he was squirming and being fussy. I know now what a terrible trip that must have been for Mama.
We did finally get there of course. I was fascinated with that old house. It was long with a hallway right down the middle that was open at both ends. Inside it was hot. Rhoda was cooking dinner on a wood cooking stove. Aunt Samarah was sitting in the other part of the house in a rocker. Her hair was snow white and hung down to her waist. She was still a spry lady with a smile that lit up her face. Boy did she keep that rocker going. The room seemed huge to me. Lots of windows and no curtains. Papa had said they were so fer' down in the holler no one to look in their winders' ceptin' maybe a bear. I had asked Mama many times that day if we were gonna' be home before dark and she assured me we were. The floors were wooden with no covering but I remember that floor shining like a new penny. The ceilings were high and I mean high. I don't remember seeing a light hanging from them like we had at home so I guess they had no electricity. Well heck we hadn't had it very long ourselves. On one whole wall was the biggest fireplace I had ever seen. A bear rug was lying in front of it. I wasn't too sure at first that thing wasn't real but finally sat on it and even ventured to pet it on the head and even took a nap on it before the day was over.
I ventured in the kitchen and was watching Rhoda. I was a picky eater but I ate that day for some reason. Rhoda asked me if I wanted to go with her to the smoke house. Sure I did. We went out a side door and down kind of aisle connected from the house to the smoke house. I remember thinking it was a tunnel. Rhoda opened the door to the smoke house and it smelled smoky. There was meat hanging from the rafters. I knew about the sugar cured meat. I don't remember what meat Rhoda got but I remember thinking it was good when I ate it. From there she opened a door in the floor and we went down in to the root cellar. Rhoda asked me what I wanted from there. I really didn't want any of it but I selected a jar of corn and one of pickled beets which I did eat later. Rhoda made biscuits and I watched her for a while but grew bored. I asked if I could go in that hallway down the middle of the house. I loved it there because a nice breeze was coming in both ends. It was a wonderful day that I will never forget.
Years later I became familiar with the stories of my Aunt Samarah and her Daughter Rhoda. Aunt Samarah was married four times and outlived them all.
Aunt Samarah had been a fisty lady and worked like a man even when she was carrying her three children. They had to be tough back then. When I saw her she was very skinny and had wasted away. She died in 1955.
I will never forget that visit. Just a few years ago I was back at that old house. No one lived there and it was very run down. There were lots of houses down the road to that holler where before there were none. It looked sad and neglected and burned down recently. Oh what stories that old house could have told. Bushwhackers had come to it one night. They had floods and were poor but lived a rich life in that house. I wish I had taken a picture of it when I was back there. It held a part of my history.
Tags: Papa Aunt Snuffhouse Cellar
I wasn't scared of much when I was growing up. Snakes, bugs, high places, etc. never bothered me. No, It was some people who scared me. Mostly people I didn't know, people who looked different, who made strange sounds, who were big, short, or talked different. Yep, Snakes and animals didn't scare me but people did. I think I now know that some, (not all) animals can be better more loyal friends that any human can.
There was a lady who lived up on the hill above us who was another one that scared me to tears. We could see her big house on the hill and I had it in my mind that house had to be a house of horrors. A huge two story house. Dark and forlorn sitting up there looking down on us. It had probably never had a coat of paint on it so with time the wood had turned dark gray, almost black. I had never been close to the house but I had seen the lady many times. She lived up there with her Mother who was never outside the house. I knew later she was never out because she was not able. Her daughter took care of her. But I imagined all kinds of things.
We saw her at Wallace Key's store where we saw everyone else. She was big, short, and looked like she was rolling down the road instead of walking. You could hear her as she came grunting, groaning, and what I called snorting. She was just trying to get her breath as she walked. She was old and she was huge, and she was childlike. Never married and alone except for her Mother and a Brother down in the holler who seemed ashamed of her. She was a poor, sweet, gentle soul, but as a child I didn't recognize that fact. To me she was just simply scary. Scared the wits outta' me.
Brenda and I were in the store one day when she came in. She was shy I think but she would always smile at us. Brenda was not scared of her though I had tried many times to convince her she should be and I sure wasn't gonna let her know I was scared.
"Let's go Brenda." "No Clydene, I'm gonna get me some candy". "Brenda come on, we don't need any candy, let's go". "Clydene stop bothering me, if you want to go then go on, what in the world is wrong with you anyhow"? I grabbed Brenda by the arm and tried to pull her by force but she was stronger than me. She jerked loose and I fell backwards right on The lady's foot. I can still see the view as I looked slowly up and all I could see was big woman her big club like arms, and her dark blue dress. Iwas too breathless to say a word because of having the breath knocked outta' me falling. All I saw was that big club of a hand coming down toward me. "OH MY GOSH! OH MY GOODNESS! I might have been out of breath but I got my second wind fast. I mean FAST!! I started scootin' backwards on the plank floor(not an easy task) and found splinters in my but later though I didn't even feel them then. I'm quiet sure I looked like a craw dad backing up fast. I still wasn't utterin' a sound from my tremblin' lips. I backed in to Brenda and knocked her down but I just scooted on around her. I couldn't get my footing so I just kept scootin' backwards all the time trying but failing to gain my feet. My Mama was not there to rescue me and Brenda sure wasn't gonna do it so I was on my own as I saw it.
The lady started toward me and I gained my feet then sure as shootin'. I was outta' there. As I ran down the steep steps of the store I could hear Brenda yelling for me to wait. Nothin' doin' I'm going home and I'm gettin' there fast. Brenda caught up with me and was shaming me but I didn't care, I had escaped with my life. "She was trying to help you up stupid" Brenda told me. Nope! I was not havin' any of that Heck fire no. I remained scared of the poor old woman and stayed away from her from then on. Yep!!
Well folks it didn't end there. Heck no that wasn't to be.
When I got married the first time I was still just a young foolish girl but I didn't know it. My future husband and I went to visit someone who had a house for rent. We rented the house sight unseen for $15.00 per month. We knew the people, knew they wouldn't lie to us, and fifteen dollars was as good as we could get. Besides it was a mile from my Parents house. That was all I needed to hear. But oh my gosh when I saw the house for the first time it was right next door from that big ol' scary house where The woman and her Mother lived. What made it worse was that we were told that she was allowed to carry water from the well right outside my kitchen door.
I stayed inside for several days. No TV, no radio, no phone, toilet out back which I ran to and ran back in with a hammer in my hand. Yep, sure did. I was so lonely. Coulda' walked to visit Mama but I was actually afraid to pass the house. Stupid, stupid, stupid!
I could hear Her coming when she came for water and I hid in the bedroom. One day she knocked on the door. It was hot and I had no fans or AC. so the door was open to let some air in, the screen door was latched. I peeked around so I could see her standing there but she couldn't see me. She was looking in the screen and she had two jars in her hands. Well now I was taught to welcome people to my home, and I was taught manners, so that won out. I went to the door and She had two jars of jam and a big smile. She told me how glad she was to have me there in her lilting, scratchy voice and that she had brought me some blackberry jam. What could I do? I opened the door (although with reluctance) took the jam she was holding out to me, said how much I appreciated it, and she was on her way. As simple as that a lonely young girl became friends with two lonely old women and made my time there easier. I visited in their house, scary and drab outside, but warm and homey inside. Here I was old enough to know better and I was still learning. I'm still learning new things and I hope I never stop learning as long as The Good Lord keeps me here. YEP! That's the way of things. Sure nuff'.
Tags: Fear
Life can be rough but it can also be wonderful. It really comes down to the way we handle all the fears, hurts, hopes, dreams, and everyday problems that we are sure to face. Just when things are smooth on the road you can be sure that there will be a bump up ahead that is totally going to wreck your cart and all the things that were good are going to come spilling out in a great big heap. What counts is how you handle the spill. You can scream and holler about all the injustices of your life and just leave it lying there, or you can stop, pick it up, and start over. Many times I have just gone on and let it lay but I always had to come back and clean it up. It's always harder that way so I try to always clean up as I go. Mamma always told me that if I made a mess to clean it up as I go. That way when it is done, it is done. NO one person will ever view things exactly the way I do, do the things I do, or think the things I think. I learned very early on that there is no way I can bend someone's will and change what they say, do, think, or what they want. We all all unique and different. I can't for the life of me see why everyone in the world isn't scrambling for a big plate of fried Okra. I love it. It is delicious to me. I hate Summer and the intense miserable heat it brings and I love winter with it's beautiful snow and ice. I just can't comprehend anyone liking to get their brains baked in the hot summer sun. God made us all different just the way he wanted each one to be. We all all special to Him. We are the very first High Tech Computers ever built with every part having it's own use in the scheme of things. We are what we are and none of us have a right to push our thoughts and beliefs on anyone else yet we all do try at times. I've tried to change, I've tried to change others. It doesn't work. We need to be happy with who we are and where we are. Everyone has the same rights and chances that I do. I have accepted me and I have accepted that everyone else has that same right. It is a sad thing that we have to be older before we accept things. I guess we are like they say about fine wine, It's better with age. I love God, family, friends, Fall, Winter, snow, and a nice warm fire to name a few. I hate liars, being lied to, being lied about, being called a liar, bullies, and summer. As long as I keep the love list longer than the hate list I figure I'm OK and I am satisfied. My perspective on a lot of things has done a complete turn about. That fact in no way means that I am a different, a better, or a worse person. I'm still just a plain ol' Country girl who talks funny to some and likes Pinto beans, fried taters , okra. Red onions sour pickles, Cole slaw and cornbread. I'm just me any you are just you my friend.
Tags: Foodwintersummerdifferent
Mama cut up chicken on the counter of the little old fashioned cabinet. She washed it down good with her dishrag dried it off and proceeded to roll out pie crust or biscuits, no bleach, but we didn't seem to be sick.
We all took Gym class and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top tennis shoes instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors that cost as much as a small car. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now. We got the paddle for doing something wrong at school then again at home, they used to call it discipline, yet we all grew up to accept the rules and to honor & respect those older than us.
We had two classes in one room and we all learned to read and write, do maths and spell almost all the words needed to write a grammatically correct letter......., FUNNY THAT!!
We all said prayers in school, our teacher read a passage out of the Bible, and we sang the national anthem.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations. We weren't!!
Oh yeah ... and where were the sterilization kit and antibiotics when I stepped on a nail. Daddy pulled it out of my foot, Mama washed my foot, dried it, and poured that dreaded old merthiolate in it. Not even a bandaid. Good grief how did I ever survive. I just don't seem to understand why that worked then but doesn't work now???
We played on piles of gravel and when we got hurt, mama pulled out the bottle of merthiolate and then we got our backside spanked for being where we were told not to be. Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10 day dose of antibiotics.
Know what?, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family. So how could we have known that?
We never needed to get into group therapy and/or anger management classes. We carried those little tin boxes of Anacin or Bayer to school in case of headache or some such thing and weren't searched for drugs. The boys played "Cowboys and Indians" without being expelled from school for pretending they had guns and bows and arrows. What's different now? I don't have a clue, but I'm sure nuff glad I grew up when I did.
Tags: Chickendysfunctionalswitches
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