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 When my brother and I were growing up, there was a branch behind our house. We would go by the road that ran by it and across a small bridge and go to the left of the bridge instead of to the right which would be behind our house.
I guess I grew up a tomboy at heart but I was all girl when it came to playing house or with my dolls. Oh if I could go back a capture just one of those days.
When I was a child my daddy would take us camping on a creek bank in the summer. We would spend either Friday night and/or Saturday night. He always took us fishing with him unless he was going with one of his buddies or a brother. I sometimes think I grew up on a creek bank. He always chose a place that you had to walk a mile from the car or truck to get to the "right" place to fish. It was fun even if we fought the ticks, chiggars, and mosquitoes. Food sure tasted good cooked over a wood fire. Supper always consisted of fried chicken or fried fish if we caught some, fried potatoes, and pork n' beans, and iced tea or pop. Breakfast was fried or scrambled eggs with bacon and the strongest coffee around. Daddy always filled an old coffee pot with water and just dumped coffee grounds into it and let it boil. Sure do miss those times. They were great. Sometimes Momma would go too.When I was 5 or 6, we did not have a car. We walked everywhere we went. We walked to town about 2 miles or so. Everytime the movies changed the 4 of us walked to town. Movies changed twice a week. Walked with Mom to the grocery store. Didn't buy much groceries, too far to carry them. I thought that we were rich when we finally got a car. Still walked a lot when daddy was at work during the week. Mom finally learned to drive and then she took over the car. Took Pop to work so she could have it during the day. She never took a driving test of any kind. Back then you could get driver's licenses at the weight station on the highway or at the drug store.My aunt Loretta was momma's oldest sister and she lived behind us when I was about 12. She is the one that took care of grandma with the cancer. Our back yards connnected or rather our gardens. So we always cut through the garden to go see her. She was a superstitious person and loved ghosts. She could tell you stories that would make your hair stand on end. We still spent a lot of summer nights in her front yard talking or listening to her stories. She said grandma was still in the house after she died. Said her dog would follow something from room to room and look up as if she could see someone walking. Honey the dog would then sit beside grandma's bed and wag her tail just like she did when grandma was alive. Sometime I will tell you the ghost stories she told us. Don't want to bore you tonight with more tales of my crazy childhood.I am sitting here eating my favorite or rather one of my favorite snacks. Buttered popcorn and kosher dill pickles. I have loved this since I was a child and had them at the movies. It all goes well with coke.
When I was about 8 or 9 daddy would let my brother who was around 5 or 6
go to the movies every Saturday afternoon by ourselves. Back then it was
safe to let kids go alone. We got a quarter each. Dime to get in, 5
cents each for coke, popcorn, and a pickle ( great big one and fat).
We never had a lot of money when I was growing up. Did not have a lot of toys but loved what we had. Thought all kids had the amount of toys that we had. Never knew that some kids got lots more. We really didn't need a lot of toys. The neighborhood had a lot of kids, most the same age as my brother and me. In the summers we played kick the can, pig in the pen, Annie over, baseball, cowboys and Indians etc. We played until it was too dark to see. Kids nowdays complain about being bored and nothing to do. We were never bored, we always found something to do. We rode our bikes all over town and to each others houses, to town , to the store etc. I got my first bike when I was about 10 yrs old. When we played kick the can or pig in the pen, the whole neighborhood was the hiding place ( covered 3 blocks in all four directions) Being IT was pure heck, so much territory to cover. But it was fun. I even played this until I was 17 yrs old. All of the other kids played too when they were teens.....been playing together since we were all anywhere from 9 to 12 yrs old. At night we played until we were called in around 10:30 or so. Summer was so much fun. As teens, sometimes we all sat around a transistor radio listening to the latest hits of the 50's and talk. There was always popcorn and cokes or cookies or chips to munch on. Sitting outside listening to the radio and talking was fun.One Sunday when I was 11, Momma wanted to go see one of her cousins that she had not seen in a long time. She lived way back in the country about 30 miles north of here and up in the mountains. It was really pretty there with the mountains in the background and big fields with corn and other vegetables planted. Momma and her cousin had fun talking and catching up on old times.
My brother and I got to watch them feed the livestock and milk the cows. That was something for us to see! We played with all the kids, must have been a dozen of them. Had fun playing chase, house, cowboys and Indians. Inside the house was a mess though with tables and chairs piled with books and papers and even the floor was had stuff strown about. She invited us to stay for supper. Momma agreed but I sure did not want to stay. I tried to talk Daddy out of it but he said no. The food looked good but there were flies everywhere. We stayed anyway but I did not eat much. If a fly landed in my plate, I quit eating, if one got in my milk, I quit drinking it. I noticed that my family was not eating much either. Momma's cousins family ate a lot in spite of the flies. We left soon afterwards the dishes were done. I told Daddy if Momma wanted to visit them again to leave me at home. No more flies again. Daddy used to tease me about going to see Momma's cousin and the flies. We never went back for a visit either. They came once to visit. Stayed for supper and most of us stood up to eat. Not enough chairs at the table. They never visited again either.
I don't know about ya'll but when I was little there was nothing like home remedies when we were ill. My Momma's older sister Loretta was the medicine woman of the family. For sore throats, there was always a spoonful of sugar with turpentine added for flavor ( ha ), I gagged for a week and made my throat even sorer. I'll never forget the time my momma made us all take cod liver oil everyday. I am still belching that up. Mustard plaster for aching backs. Vicks applied to warm to hot piece of flannel on the chest for colds. Now only flannel would do, no other cloth was right. My eyes still burn from the fumes. Aunt Loretta had a cure for everything. For instance warts, stick a needle through the sides of it and then go bury the needle and forget the burial place. I tried that once when I had a wart on my little finger. I was around 14 or so, maybe older. I can still take you to the exact burial site of that needle. Wart is gone but I don't think that so called cure did the trick. Momma put an ice cold wet washcloth on my head when I had migarines as a kid. Made me stay in bed with the blinds pulled and gave me aspirin and those cold, soothing washclothes.....never mind that she did not alway wring out all of the water.....water ran down my face, hair and kept my pillow case wet. Now my Grandma on Daddy's side put snuff on a wasp sting to take the pain away.....worked too. Momma put a mixture of vinegar and noxema on my sunburned back and limbs. I put ice water soaked towels on it to make it feel better. One or the other helped the pain. Momma fixed baking soda water for belly aches and gas. Tasted terrible. It is a wonder I lived to this ripe old age that I am. Remember those days grannies???? My mom has been gone for nearly 21 years. There is not a day that goes by that she isn't in my thoughts. She is and always will be so special to me. As a child she was always there for me. She made most of my clothes. I only got store bought clothes for Easter and when school started. That was just one dress each time. When there was extra money that could be spent, she bought fabric and then I would get a new dress. I wore a lot of hand me downs from cousins and friends. My mom had the patience of Job with me and my brother. She let me help with the cooking when I got old enough. My first meal was oatmeal. When I was a teen, I took home ec to learn more. Once when I was about 12, I told mom I wanted to cook supper all by myself. She was leary but said go ahead. We had fried pork chops, fried taters, corn and some beans. It turned out good too. I was a snotty teen at times and mom would set me straight in her own gentle way. The last year of her life ( I did not know it at the time ) for Mother's Day I bought her a gift but also wrote her a letter. Even tho I saw her nearly everyday, I felt that I needed to tell her what she meant to me. I could not find the right card so I sat down and wrote her a letter. I told her of how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. She was more of a mom to my kids than I was since she kept them so I could work and support them. I lived at home after my divorce. She was such an important person in my life and I wanted to tell her so. The letter was long. When she died, I got a lot of her belongings. One was a Bible that belonged to her Mother. It was old and falling apart and once survived a house fire. Mom always kept papers, poems etc that meant a lot to her in that Bible. I was going through it one day, long after her death. There in the middle of it was my Mother's Day letter. I cried for the longest knowing how much I missed her. Mom was special and has such a special place in my heart. Mom I love you and miss you. The two kids next door to us in one neighborhood we lived in were the same age as my brother and me. The only difference was that the boy was the oldest. I was around 9 and my brother was about 6. The four of us played together everyday. Our favorite game was cowboys and Indians. Some days we were all cowboys. One day I got to be the outlaw and escaped from jail. The deputy and the sheriff were the neighbors. They caught up with me and I sure put up a fight. I did not want to go back to jail. The deputy ran up behind me and hit me in the head with the butt of her gun. Oh MY God that hurt like nothing that I had ever experienced in my young life. It is a wonder it did not make me pass out. Since I did not pass out, we thought that all the western movies were wrong when someone just keeled over when hit on the head with a gun. I had a knot the size of a tennis ball for a while or at least it felt that big. Hurt like the dickens and not to say the headaches that lasted for a long time. Maybe that bump on the head is what is wrong with me today. Think so? I always had a pet cat and my brother a dog. I had one when I was 3. Momma said that it would follow me everywhere I went. It allowed me to cover him with dirt like you would cover someone with sand at the beach. Another cat I got from the Uncle Ray show on the radio in Ft. Smith. Was the lucky one who called in first. Her name ws Twinkles. Had my own dog at the same time and he was Toe Joe. One cat I had at 12 years old was Tweety. He loved corn. Had to have it everyday. When we moved, he kept going back to the old home place. Next was a wild cat called Wiggles. That cat could not stay still one second. Took him for ever to find a comfortable position to sleep. Found a stray kitten at work coming up the ER ramp. My girls loved her. My neighbor hated her. Neighbor poisoned her but could not prove it. Had several cats that were killed like that in my childhood. My kids had another cat that hated that neighbor. Kept digging up her flower bed. The neighbor hit it, poured water on it, threw rocks at it, but it did not faze that cat one bit. When it got old, it disappeared. Missing for weeks and never heard from again. My neighbor said that she thought a mouse had crawled between her walls and died. Boy did her house stink. She got someone to go under her house to see if he could find the source. You guessed it, it was my cat. He got the last word in after all. Daddy not only took us fishing, grasshopper hunting, frog gigging but hunting too. One winter when I was about 17 or 18, he wanted to go hunting and could not get anyone to go with him. His brother was busy with something else and his friends had other plans. I told him that I would go with him. So off we went to the woods about 20 miles plus from home. We went up one hill and down another. He shot squirrels that day. He wanted me to shoot the gun too. So he finally found a squirrel high in a tree on one of the top limbs. He helped me with the shot gun and told me to aim by the site at the end of the barrel and gently squeeze the trigger. I did as told and Bingo I shot the squirrel. The only thing that went wrong was that the squirrel fell over dead on the limb and not to the ground. My first squirrel too! My daddy was so proud and wanted me to have that squirrel to show my Mom and brother. He climbed that darn tree and got that squirrel for me. Now what a sweet thing for him to do. He could have fallen and broke something but he did not think about that. He just wanted me to have my trophy of the day. I loved being Daddy's girl.
You fight with the mesquitoes and whatever night time no see'ms that bite the heck out of you. The bites raise whelps to know end and itch like H___! By the time you are ready to go home it is late at night, you try to sleep in the truck between itching and scratching the bites. On arrival at home you have to clean or rather cut the legs off and skin them. Put them in a sack, stick them in the fridge until tomorrow night's supper.
The next evening, Momma rolls them in flour and puts them in hot grease or shortening ( no such thing as oil back then). As she is frying them, the legs jump out of the skillet and land on the floor, the cabinet counter, in the pot next to the skillet. It is like gigging all over again. Wash off the ones that landed on the floor......heavens no you can't throw them away....what a waste of the trouble you went through the night before catching them. Daddy forgot as usual to cut the ligaments in the legs to keep them from jumping out of the frying pan. Momma is fit to be tied having to cook the darn things since she does not like them. She does cook them since I think it is because she loves us and not the frog legs. She makes a big pan of gravy and some of her homemade scratch baking powder biscuits to go with them. She also fries taters and fixes a veggie to go with all of the above fixin's. She eats the taters, the veggies and the gravey and biscuits. She has never eaten frog legs, it is just the thought of them and what they looked like before. Maybe she was afraid to get warts on her tongue?
Frog gigging was fun. Oh just to go back once to that age. I could enjoy being a kid and having fun with daddy and laughing at momma cooking them. Gee maybe when my time comes, God will let me and daddy go frog gigging once more. Are there frogs in heaven? Oh I pray that there are frogs there! One summer when I was about 10, my cousin asked me to spend the weekend with her. Sue lived in the country. We got up early that Saturday morning and Sue said that we were going to go to a farm and pick strawberries. She told me we would get paid to pick them, nickel per quart and a dime if we capped them.
Summers seemed to last longer that they do now. I wonder why. In one neighborhood that I lived in from the age of 6 to 12, there were kids of all ages. Most of them were my age and of my brother's age. We played everything from cowboys to cops and robbers to paper dolls and marbles. I was good at marbles. I usually won all of them when we played "keeps". I always gave them back. There is one girl that stands out in my mind and always will. Martha was about 3 or 4 years older than I was. We were the best of friends. We played hopscotch, house, dolls, rode bikes, jacks, etc. We ate lunch at each others house a lot. Her granny could fix the best big lima (butter beans as some call them) beans. So thick with its own gravy and a pan of cornbread. I sure loved eating lunch there when she had limas. Martha was only one grade higher in school than I was. We remained the best of friends long after I moved away. We rode our bikes to visit each other clear across town.
Martha was special and always will be to me. She was a special gift from God. You see Martha was retarded and had the mind of a 8 or 9 year old. I see her occasionally but she does not remember or recognize me. I guess she would if I still looked like I did as a child. As they say you can't judge a book by it's cover, you can't judge a person by their mind or intellect. I'll never forget her as long as I live. Thank you God for letting Martha be my best and dearest friend for so many years and for the happiness she brought into my life. My daddy attended night school one night a week. On those nights we would listen to the radio with Momma. We listened to Intersanctum, The DA, and some scary show, Green Hornet etc. We did not get tv until I was about 10 or 11. Sitting in my aunts front yard on summer nights listening to her tell ghost stories, having family over to eat watermelon and home made ice cream on summer nights. Playing dominoes or checkers with either or both Momma and Daddy. My Grandma and I played dominos or checkers alot too when I would spend the day with her. I have lot of fond memories I could share. When I was younger in my preteens, mom and daddy would make us go to decoration every spring to various cemeteries where relatives are buried. Now all of these cemeteries were in the country and I mean in the country. Miles from nowhere. These were in communities so small that if you blinked, you missed them. These were all day events. You took food already prepared and spread it on the ground and sat on blankets and such to eat. You shared with anyone and everyone. All the graves were bedecked with beautiful flower arrangements or wreaths. You got to catch up on all the latest news or what I would call gossip about everyone there. There was preaching and singing all day too. You could come and go in the one little church (which also served as a one room school) at the cemetery where my paternal grandparents and cousins , aunts and uncles are buried.
You had a good time but it did seem like a long day. You were reminded
of the event everyday for a week or so when ever the tick and chiggar
bites itched. Women always wore their Sunday best and the men wore suits
or their best overalls with a white shirt. They still hold decorations
today but it is not the same. You decorate the family plots and go home. In my "younger years" 12-18, my bro and I and our friends in the neighborhood played in the woods. These woods were about a block from our back yard. You could see them from the back yard. The woods had a very large steep hill or small mountain in them. Most of the walking was up hill. We found a place where imaginations could run wild and a safe haven to play. No such things as child predators back then. In these woods were bluffs high enough that you could see a lot of our town all the way to the bottoms and to the river several miles away. There was a large flat rock that had some carving on it but unable to read the words. We always thought it could have been someone's grave. There was a frame of an old log cabin. You could tell that it had three small rooms, perhaps a kitchen with living and dining rooms combined and 2 small bedrooms. Most of the roof was caved in and the walls all but gone. The woods covered about 3 miles or so in three directions. They were dense with foliage and every tree mentionable. This wonderful haven was a place for picnics, playing cowboys and Indians, and hide and seek. There was a small stream at the base of the woods where we hunted and caught crawfish or crawdads as we called them. The water was never more than ankle or calve deep. You could see some minnows but never any fish bigger than that. I had a friend that lived on top of the mountain. Her home was in a field with other houses below her about a 1/4 of a mile or so away. Short cut through the woods to her house. We even walked each other home at night. We were never afraid to go through the woods even at night. I grew to know those woods like the back of my hand.
Today all of that property is the City Park. Now it has a man-made lake,
swimming pool, playground, and picnic tables, ballfield and skateboard
park. Most of the woods are still there. Walking in the park is
different now but I can still enjoy the wonderful and fun memories of
that land so many years ago.
Saturday was a busy time when I was growing up. There was grocery shopping, going to the afternoon matinee to see the latest cowboy movie or horror show, perhaps getting to eat supper at a cafe in town (which was rare and such a treat). When I grew to be a teen, I walked to town and met my girlfriends and we would go up and down the main street, window shop, get a soda or hamburger at one of the cafes and watch for boys. I enjoyed my Saturdays growing up. Then Saturday night, the big night of dating. If you didn't have a date for Saturday night, well that just wasn't heard of in those days. Dates would take you to the movies or rather the drive in (wished that we still had them) or he would take you to the local hangout where all your class mates soon gathered, At home you could tell it was Saturday night by Momma's supper. She always fixed hamburger meat patties, fried potatoes, corn and open a can of pork n' beans. In fact you could tell what day of the week was by her meals at supper time.
Why did we ever have to grow up?
When Momma and Daddy came to get me on Sunday, I could not wait to show them what I could do. My cousin's front yard was uphill and ran parallel with the front of the house. My parents sat in the chairs on the front porch and watched me ride those bikes. I showed them I could ride sitting down and standing up and pump them up the hill. They smiled and said maybe on my birthday, I could get one of my own. I knew that was really a maybe. We did not have a lot of money and a new bike would cost around $25. Well my birthday rolled around finally that July. I looked in the living room that morning when I awoke. No bike and not one in the kitchen. I felt so disappointed but I would not let them see me cry. I opened my gift that afternoon after Momma served us my cake. I don't remember what gift I got but it sure was not a bike. I had such a lump in my throat that it was hard to eat my piece of cake. I had no party, just us, me and my brother, Momma and Daddy. Daddy told me to go get the mail out of the box that was on the front porch. By Golly instead of mail, there was a bright and shiny new blue and white bike, it had a horn and you just pushed a button and it rang. Oh what a happy kid was I. I rode that bike the rest of the day until supper time and some afterwards. That was the most wonderful birthday ever.
My mother was an avid gardener of flowers and daddy loved vegetable gardens. We always had a beautiful yard with momma's flowers. Her pride and joy was her roses. She had one of every color imaginable. Daddy had the largest garden with everything from potaotos, tomatos, to okra, onions, radishes. If it was a veggie you can bet that he grew it. Mother canned everything he grew or put it up in the freezer. Seldom did we ever have veggies from a store bought can. She always had a beautiful bouquet of flowers somewhere in the house. In the mornings on arising, you could smell the fragrance of her work coming through the windows.  Momma and daddy with just a small amount of her roses.
I briefly remember marching in my backyard to the high school band. The band practiced marching in he streets by the school and would sometimes come with in a block or so of our house. I know I was 4 then. Mom told me once that I sang "I'm Looking Over A Four Leaf Clover" to the top of my lungs when the school band played it in their practice. I remember dad being gone for a long time. Learned later in life that he went ot Col. to work in a logging company for 6 months. Sometimes I wonder if my early memories are really memories or what mom told me. I can see the red wagon and the cat, the service station etc. There was a bar across the blvd from the station that played loud music sometimes and mom said that I would sing right along with the songs. Oh well as long as I remember that I remember who cares. Ever been by yourself or in a room full of people and think of something funny that happened long ago and just start giggling? I was just thinking of some of the things that struck me as funny. When I was about 4, daddy was lying on the couch and I was playing on the floor beside him. Momma said I picked up an empty coffee can and just bopped him in the head. Did he ever yell. She said it scared me so when he yelled that I hit him again. Once when my kids were little, momma got a letter from my brother in Vietnam. She sat down in the rocker to read it to all of us. Suddenly she sneezed and her lower plate flew across the room. My girls squealed with laughter......both still talk of it today. Momma was always funny at the most unusual times. She was carrying a bowl of kitchen scraps out the back door. She tripped and fell down the 4 steps and scraps flew everywhere. She was okay except for a skinned knee and elbow. She picked herself up and said " Now just look at the mess I made" Then she just laughed and laughed. She was putting a heavy cake pan on the top shelf one day when it fell and hit her on the head. She said that it hurt something awful but what hurt worse was the hollow sound it made when it hit her head. That's my mom. My brother and I were playing down and around the sidewalk that was in the front of our house. We were just 5 and 2. Momma said we were out of site and went to look for us. Dennis Wayne and I were playing with two balls about the size of a soccer ball. She said she seen us turn around to come back to the house when she saw my brother had put both balls under his shirt. It embarassed her so she ran back in the house. Years later she said that DW looked so funny and would have put Dolly Parton to shame that day. I had a cat that loved to play hide and seek with me. We used to play this for a long time. I guess I must have gotten tired of playing. I was sitting on the arm of the living room chair with my feet in the seat. That cat came up from behind and bit me on the butt. Momma said that it scared me so that my socks flew off my feet. Oh I could go on and on but I had better quit for now. So if you see someone who starts giggling for no reason at all, believe me there is a reason! Was thinking of our deceased grandson, Charles.( the one in my nurse stories who died of CF) He always loved this time of the year. It makes me sad to know that he is not still with us. I feel his presence often even though I can not see him except he comes to me in my dreams. I was thinking of a story his mom loves to tell about Charles and Christmas Eve so long ago when he was about 4 or 5. His mom had some friends over for supper on Christmas Eve. It was getting late and his mom told Charles to put something out for Santa. He put out a glass of milk and some cookies. He told his mom that he wanted to put something out for the reindeer. So she gave him all the apples she had and put them in a bowl. Charles sat the bowl out on the porch for the reindeer. After he went to bed, his mom poured the milk back into the carton and she ate the cookies. She knew the Charles saw her give all the apples for the reindeer, so she gave her friends the bowl of apples to take home. Early on Christmas morning Charles ran into the living room. There was the empty milk glass and plate where the cookies were. He opened the door and sure enough the bowl of apples was gone too. He then woke his mom. He just had to tell her that Santa ate the cookies and drank the milk. She said that he had the longest face and he was ever so close to crying. She asked him what was wrong. He said Momma the reindeer ate all the apples too. His mom said that was fine. He then said " The reindeers stole your bowl".
It makes me smile to think of this wonderful story.
Our backyard was huge and he planted about a half acre in veggies of all sorts. He would have tomatoes, corn, potaotes, lettuce, radishes, onions, greenbeans just to name a few of the rows that were planted. He would work hard his 8 hours at the Ark Best Freight and come home and spend 2-3 hours in his garden. That garden was his pride and joy. He would work all weekend weeding and turning the soil.
That man had a green thumb to beat all green thumbs.
School is out here now until around Aug 19 or so. My summer vacation was from the third week of May until the first Tuesday after Labor Day.
My brother and I played until dark with the cousins. Everything from
chase to kick the can etc. Then the ice cream was ready. I ate so much
ice cream and
Oh to relive some of those summers again
but alas that is never to be. Thank you Dear Lord for letting us have a
brain, so we could remember those good times as children. Some say old
age is the golden years, but to me my childhood was the golden age of my
life.
When we had some rain the other day, you know one of those fast gully washers. There was a lot of water in the garden and just beautiful mud puddles. I was reminded of when I divorced the girls dad and I moved back home with Momma and Daddy. When Terri the youngest was about 12 -14 months old, Mother and I needed to go shopping. Both of my girls were asleep, so Daddy agreed to watch them while we were gone. We were gone a couple of hours. When we got home we found the house very quiet. Daddy had taken the girls out to the back yard and put them on a pallet under a big shade tree. Leigh Ann who was almost 3 was making mud pies and feeding them to Terri and Terri had her spoon and feeding herself too. She was in a wet diaper. Both girls were having a time of their lives. Momma jumped all over daddy for the mud pie eating and the wet diaper. He said that they were quiet and did not have the heart to disturb them. He claimed he did not know about the mud eating and he was not good at changing diapers. An early bath was in order to say the least. Gretschenmaw had a story about her Dad's babysitting.
 , cowboys and
Indians, cops and robbers, play house and dolls, paper dolls , night time
games such as kick the can, pig in the pen, etc. Oh those were the days. I never knew we were poor until I was older and found out some people owned bigger houses and had more money. I thought we were ok. We always had food in the house and one or two gifts at Christmas. Summer meant playing in the empty fields and in the woods, sleeping in if you wanted and staying up past 10:00 at night. Summer was freedom to enjoy being a kid. B Click Mail me with comments
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that I was sick to my stomach all night and
most of the next day. It was a while before I could eat homemade ice
cream and watermelon again. I can just taste the delight it was to have
those two treats in the summer. 
