Saturday, May 21, 2011
No watermelon at the Watermelon Festival in Newberry FL
I don't know who was more excited about having a sleep over the grandchildren or the adults. The delicious beef stew one of my daughters made was enjoyed by all. After baths and showers it was time for popcorn and a movie. Waiting for Rainbow Bright to come this G-Maw fell asleep on the couch. My daughter shook me awake and told me to go to bed and I sweetly complied. This morning I heard all about the fun and laughter they all shared. Nobody wanted to sleep with me and when asked why they all said because you snore too loud G-Maw. Fair enough I am at fault this time. I guess now that they are getting bigger they can tell us they don't get any sleep when they sleep with me because I keep waking them up. However I sincerely hope I don't sound the way they demonstrated for us. Have a pop tart kids and drink your milk kids. Yes I did change the subject and that is that. We all got ready for the Watermelon Festival near one of my daughter's house and got a prime spot without knowing that we were doing so. The candy that was thrown for the 4 kids was enough to fill a small grocery bag. They were allowed to eat one piece and then it was put away to divide equally among them. This being our first time we did not know what to expect except that is was $5.00 for parking. No handicap parking for the disabled in sight. It was a very long walk to get to the festivities and I had to sit down numerous times to rest. We finally made it to where the kiddie fun things were and after that we went on to the next field that had the vendors. We only bought something at one booth. We were looking for the watermelon decor accessories we were sure would be there, with a name like the Watermelon festival with the ad of free watermelon one would think there would be a lot of items to go with the theme. Well we never saw a watermelon and there was one item of accessories with a watermelon painted on it.What a disappointment. I did overhear a deputy telling someone of the difficult time they had with DOT trying to have the festival which was held at a different location this year. There's a story there. The few food booths they had weren't appetizing so we went back to my daughter's house and had Pb&j sandwiches and a most delicious drink of kool aid and 7up mix. Then we all chatted while the kids rested(we knew they weren't going to sleep). It was overall a very nice day together. The daughter I rode with had us back at my apartment by 4:00. When I was telling my sister what I got, I was searching for the bag it was put in and it accidentally went home with my daughter.lol I really didn't care as I was ready to lay down and rest awhile before moving around once I got home. Now I guess I need to get off the computer and cook dinner so until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Finally Made it Back
So much has happened since I last posted. Sickness, birthdays, recitals, etc.
Shame on me for not taking just a few minutes out of a busy day to pop in and say HI to all you sweet people and let you know I was still here. This is sometimes hard for me to do and my typing skills are not what they were long ago.lol
Now lets see what time in my life can I share tonight....
This may sound Gorey to some but I will tell it in a kind way.
We were a self sufficient farm. That also involved raising our own meat. One time Pa got 100 biddies from the feed store to raise for food. Turned out there was a mistake of a few chicks and we kept them to lay eggs. On a Saturday morning bright and early we would start the fire under the ole wash pot and then set out for the chicken yard. When the first one's neck was wrung it was a shocker to us children. But being that we lived on a farm and knew about having to slaughter animals for our food, soon got us over the first shock of watching the chickens flop all over the place, and at times is seemed like they were coming after us for wringing their necks. Now if you remember mention has been made of being faintable over the sight of blood. Yeah right, the others decided they too couldn't stand the sight of blood and might faint at any moment. Now that left two of us to wring their necks. My oldest brother who was the pesticator and myself. We didn't seem to be doing the job fast enough and Pa told us to get one in each hand and go to town wringing those chickens necks. Well the party got in full swing then I have never seen so many dancing chickens in my life in one spot. My brother and I were doing the twist and the chickens were doing all sorts of dance steps all around us. Of course my brother had to make fun of me and goad me on about the task at hand and I got so mad at him that when I wrung the next two chickens necks they were left in my hands. "Sorry" I felt terrible to begin with for committing the sin of killing that I burst into tears over the happenings of my job. If you can imagine a 12 year old farm girl wringing chickens necks while squalling and tossing them in a pile, it was surely a sight for confusion with my brother laughing so hard he looked more like he was playing than working. The other girls had to douse the chickens in the hot water to loosen the feathers to pluck them easier while we were wringing their necks. Pa had already started butchering the plucked chickens getting them ready to put up in the freezer. Mama was in the kitchen frying up chicken and cooking collards, beans, mashed potatoes,gravy, and banana pudding for our dinner. The two youngest ones didn't have much to do in the line of work. About 50 chickens had been butchered by noon so we broke and ate dinner. No talking while at the table was my parents rule as well as eat everything on your plate and be quick about it, as we had to always get back to work doing one job or the other. While we girls cleaned the kitchen and put the leftovers away Pa went back to butchering chickens. This was also the time when I learned how to butcher a chicken all by myself. The only thing he threw away in the tub was the intestines. Waste not want not was his motto. The feet got skinned and eaten in chicken and rice along with the backs and necks. So I watched Pa for awhile then did it with his supervision and then he let me do it by myself telling me to not cut myself. I had a lesson in what a blood bath was about that day. The lessons learned came in handy later when I first got out on my own and had to cut up my own cwn chicken for the economical purchase price instead of the more expensive precut chickens. Well we didn't end up with 100 chickens in the freezer as they planned but close to it. It would certainly get us through the winter with the other meat we would butcher later in the Fall. It's amazing what we can do when we are in a position of have to do it or suffer the consequences like that day and many others on the farm while I was growing up. That was surely a long time ago, almost 50 years, and I can still remember it like it was just yesterday.
Well that's it for not so until next time I leave you with just this... Alice
Shame on me for not taking just a few minutes out of a busy day to pop in and say HI to all you sweet people and let you know I was still here. This is sometimes hard for me to do and my typing skills are not what they were long ago.lol
Now lets see what time in my life can I share tonight....
This may sound Gorey to some but I will tell it in a kind way.
We were a self sufficient farm. That also involved raising our own meat. One time Pa got 100 biddies from the feed store to raise for food. Turned out there was a mistake of a few chicks and we kept them to lay eggs. On a Saturday morning bright and early we would start the fire under the ole wash pot and then set out for the chicken yard. When the first one's neck was wrung it was a shocker to us children. But being that we lived on a farm and knew about having to slaughter animals for our food, soon got us over the first shock of watching the chickens flop all over the place, and at times is seemed like they were coming after us for wringing their necks. Now if you remember mention has been made of being faintable over the sight of blood. Yeah right, the others decided they too couldn't stand the sight of blood and might faint at any moment. Now that left two of us to wring their necks. My oldest brother who was the pesticator and myself. We didn't seem to be doing the job fast enough and Pa told us to get one in each hand and go to town wringing those chickens necks. Well the party got in full swing then I have never seen so many dancing chickens in my life in one spot. My brother and I were doing the twist and the chickens were doing all sorts of dance steps all around us. Of course my brother had to make fun of me and goad me on about the task at hand and I got so mad at him that when I wrung the next two chickens necks they were left in my hands. "Sorry" I felt terrible to begin with for committing the sin of killing that I burst into tears over the happenings of my job. If you can imagine a 12 year old farm girl wringing chickens necks while squalling and tossing them in a pile, it was surely a sight for confusion with my brother laughing so hard he looked more like he was playing than working. The other girls had to douse the chickens in the hot water to loosen the feathers to pluck them easier while we were wringing their necks. Pa had already started butchering the plucked chickens getting them ready to put up in the freezer. Mama was in the kitchen frying up chicken and cooking collards, beans, mashed potatoes,gravy, and banana pudding for our dinner. The two youngest ones didn't have much to do in the line of work. About 50 chickens had been butchered by noon so we broke and ate dinner. No talking while at the table was my parents rule as well as eat everything on your plate and be quick about it, as we had to always get back to work doing one job or the other. While we girls cleaned the kitchen and put the leftovers away Pa went back to butchering chickens. This was also the time when I learned how to butcher a chicken all by myself. The only thing he threw away in the tub was the intestines. Waste not want not was his motto. The feet got skinned and eaten in chicken and rice along with the backs and necks. So I watched Pa for awhile then did it with his supervision and then he let me do it by myself telling me to not cut myself. I had a lesson in what a blood bath was about that day. The lessons learned came in handy later when I first got out on my own and had to cut up my own cwn chicken for the economical purchase price instead of the more expensive precut chickens. Well we didn't end up with 100 chickens in the freezer as they planned but close to it. It would certainly get us through the winter with the other meat we would butcher later in the Fall. It's amazing what we can do when we are in a position of have to do it or suffer the consequences like that day and many others on the farm while I was growing up. That was surely a long time ago, almost 50 years, and I can still remember it like it was just yesterday.
Well that's it for not so until next time I leave you with just this... Alice
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Timely Tuesday
As I recall I mentioned telling you about the cane grinding and polecat.
Each year we grew sugar cane to make syrup to have all year long til the next cane grinding. We planted about 5 acres of cane starts (section of the cane with a bud in the middle for a growing point) after our current harvest. It would work its magic and grow roots during the winter and be ready to burst forth in the Spring with green shoots that quickly turned into canes. One year we planted two varieties. In addition to our usual yellow/green cane we got some purple cane starts to plant. They grew slimmer than the usual cane and Pa didn't seem to care much for that. Neither did we as we hoed and cared for the cane field during the spring and summer. As November arrived we would start getting the cane ready for harvest. Pa would cut a stalk and peel it and pop it into his mouth and chew away on the pulp tasting for the perfect sweetness to make cane syrup. Then we would strip the cane leaves off the cane stalks with a machete like tool. Sometimes we would have a rhythm going of down on one side flip around and down on the other side til all the cane stalks were stripped clean. With perfect timing we would cut off the tops of the canes and leave them for the next days work which we would cut down the stalks and pile them up. Bright and early the next morning we would harness ole Kate (our mule) up the the sled and head to the field. We would load the canes up and head on back to the cane mill. When all was brought in Kate would be harnessed up to the pole that stretched from one side to the other nearly touching the ground. As she would walk around and around the grinders we would put a piece of cane in between the big metal rollers that mashed the stalks and released the juice which was collected in metal drums. When the drums were filled to a level they could still lift Pa and my oldest brother would lift them up and pour them in the big kettle that was protected under a pole barn type structure. The cast iron bowl would hold 80 gallons but we cooked off 50 gallons at a time. This was repeated many times over the course of a few days. During the cooking we would skim off the foam and stir the juice in the kettle. As the cane juice cooked it would eventually turn into syrup and we knew when Pa called for us to come get the Polecat it was about ready put in bottles and we were in for a treat. Along the rim of the kettle was a yellowish thickened substance similar to taffy but thinner. We would all line up and each one had a cane strip to hand to Pa to dip in the kettle to get us some Polecat. He would hand it back and caution us to be careful as it was very hot. As we blew on our strips to cool what we thought was manna from Heaven we would look around to see if anyone had started eating it yet. While it was still warm we would slurp up that sweet tasting treat and ask for more. We sure did love Polecat and it was our treat for doing the work required to store syrup for the year on shelves in the smoke house. Well that's another story for another time for now I leave you with Just This... Alice
Each year we grew sugar cane to make syrup to have all year long til the next cane grinding. We planted about 5 acres of cane starts (section of the cane with a bud in the middle for a growing point) after our current harvest. It would work its magic and grow roots during the winter and be ready to burst forth in the Spring with green shoots that quickly turned into canes. One year we planted two varieties. In addition to our usual yellow/green cane we got some purple cane starts to plant. They grew slimmer than the usual cane and Pa didn't seem to care much for that. Neither did we as we hoed and cared for the cane field during the spring and summer. As November arrived we would start getting the cane ready for harvest. Pa would cut a stalk and peel it and pop it into his mouth and chew away on the pulp tasting for the perfect sweetness to make cane syrup. Then we would strip the cane leaves off the cane stalks with a machete like tool. Sometimes we would have a rhythm going of down on one side flip around and down on the other side til all the cane stalks were stripped clean. With perfect timing we would cut off the tops of the canes and leave them for the next days work which we would cut down the stalks and pile them up. Bright and early the next morning we would harness ole Kate (our mule) up the the sled and head to the field. We would load the canes up and head on back to the cane mill. When all was brought in Kate would be harnessed up to the pole that stretched from one side to the other nearly touching the ground. As she would walk around and around the grinders we would put a piece of cane in between the big metal rollers that mashed the stalks and released the juice which was collected in metal drums. When the drums were filled to a level they could still lift Pa and my oldest brother would lift them up and pour them in the big kettle that was protected under a pole barn type structure. The cast iron bowl would hold 80 gallons but we cooked off 50 gallons at a time. This was repeated many times over the course of a few days. During the cooking we would skim off the foam and stir the juice in the kettle. As the cane juice cooked it would eventually turn into syrup and we knew when Pa called for us to come get the Polecat it was about ready put in bottles and we were in for a treat. Along the rim of the kettle was a yellowish thickened substance similar to taffy but thinner. We would all line up and each one had a cane strip to hand to Pa to dip in the kettle to get us some Polecat. He would hand it back and caution us to be careful as it was very hot. As we blew on our strips to cool what we thought was manna from Heaven we would look around to see if anyone had started eating it yet. While it was still warm we would slurp up that sweet tasting treat and ask for more. We sure did love Polecat and it was our treat for doing the work required to store syrup for the year on shelves in the smoke house. Well that's another story for another time for now I leave you with Just This... Alice
Thursday, February 24, 2011
My 6th grade class
My Father is young boy on the right
My Great Grandparents
My Grandparents and their 13th child
My My family in 1958. I am young girl on bottom right.I have tried to write a story line several time to go with the pictures and each time something happens to delete it. I am struggling with posting and pictures still. But I am trying.
I want to record my life story for my future generations and anyone who is interested in reading it. I also want to be able to do tutorials on things I make to share with others. I am slow with the learning process of blogging but I am continuing to put forth the effort to do it regardless of those struggles. When i learned to type it was before teh electric typewriter and I don't know what all this stuff on the keyboard is for except the alphabet and numbers. Fortunately I have spell check to correct any misspelled words.
I hope this gives you a little glimpse into the past and until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice
Monday, February 21, 2011
autoMobile Monday
Just got back from having to buy two new tires for my vehicle. $145.00 ouch. No gas to go anywhere now but I've got tires.
I think I said I would tell about my experience with the electric fence while on vacation one summer.
I was living in New Orleans at the time and came home to Florida for a vacation. While here my oldest brother and I with our pickup trucks went and got hay for the fall and winter. Pa had a very small heard of cattle at the time. Of course he was all of Eighty years old and still worked his gardens, livestock, etc. He had quit raising and cropping tobacco when he was sixty seven and just had concentrated on his large vegetable garden and had a little time to sit on the front porch in his rocking chair watching the birds eat the seeds he had scattered for them. OK back to the story promised. We decided we could get all the hay Pa needed on both the trucks if we stacked it high and drove slowly home from the neighbors farm about a mile away. Well we did just that and my oldest brother decided he would unload first so he could get to his second job on time that evening. We unloaded his truck in record time and had it stacked neatly in the pack house. As he drove off he shouted "Hey sis watch out for that electric fence wire overhead now so you don't dance your jig hahahaha" all the way back out of the field. I should have known he had in mind for me to touch it because while we were unloading my truck, I grabbed the last bale of hay on the cab and the blanket used to keep the truck from getting scratched up came with it and as I turned around my foot caught on it and I went flying over the second layer of hay bales and ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP my forehead connected with that dang line and I couldn't move for awhile. My new dance steps were just going in the air trying to get that blanket off my foot. After getting my foot loose I was able to get down onto the ground to find relief for every orifice on my body. My sil was laughing so hard she wet herself. I didn't know what I was going to do about the hay because I told her that blame hay could stay there or unload itself before I got up there again. It took some time to get myself together and try to find a solution to the problem of getting the hay off my truck. We ended up getting a longer pole/tree sapling to raise the line to my satisfaction so we could finish the job of unloading that truck. After all I did have to drive back to New Orleans in it. I told my sil don't you be telling your husband about this, you hear, and she just started laughing all over again. Sure as could be she went inside laughing and ended up telling Pa and them about my buck dance on the hay.
That wasn't my first experience with the electric fence oh no.... my oldest brother always tried to get me by doing something when we were out working in the fields. The first time I shook hands with Mr. E Lectric Fence was when the same brother told me to "lift that wire so I can crawl under it then I'll hold it for you so you can get under it." Since he hadn't been too mean to me that day I just grabbed that wire to lift it up and it didn't want to turn loose. I was a hollering and a crying and dancing around and he started shouting let it go, let it go. He must have felt bad for that one because he told me he didn't think I would pick it up that way, he thought I would pick it up the sissified way with my thumb and forefinger. I let him know the only fence I picked up that way was barbed wire.
We can sit around now talking about all of the old days and laugh til our sides hurt. I did tell them that it wasn't right for me to not get my trip down the red carpet for being the family entertainment though.
Life was so simple back then and we didn't have to make all the decisions we do today because they were made for us. It is hard to believe we have come so far from what we were back then. It was difficult making decisions on my own for the first little while and then along came some real life education. I don't think we started growing up til we got out on our own because it was certainly a reality slap in the face when we left home. Oh the simple days of sitting on the porch on a Sunday afternoon after church turning the crank of the ice cream machine knowing we were in for a real treat when it was done. We all have our long ago yesterdays and some are more fondly thought of than others. Time marches on and we are soon forgotten just as our ancestors were. We do have an advantage of being able to capture those memories and store them for our future generations though. My children and grandchildren ask for stories about when I was young and I guess this is my way to preserve those stories.
Perhaps a story of the polecat and cane grinding would be good for next time. Until then I remain Just This...Alice
I think I said I would tell about my experience with the electric fence while on vacation one summer.
I was living in New Orleans at the time and came home to Florida for a vacation. While here my oldest brother and I with our pickup trucks went and got hay for the fall and winter. Pa had a very small heard of cattle at the time. Of course he was all of Eighty years old and still worked his gardens, livestock, etc. He had quit raising and cropping tobacco when he was sixty seven and just had concentrated on his large vegetable garden and had a little time to sit on the front porch in his rocking chair watching the birds eat the seeds he had scattered for them. OK back to the story promised. We decided we could get all the hay Pa needed on both the trucks if we stacked it high and drove slowly home from the neighbors farm about a mile away. Well we did just that and my oldest brother decided he would unload first so he could get to his second job on time that evening. We unloaded his truck in record time and had it stacked neatly in the pack house. As he drove off he shouted "Hey sis watch out for that electric fence wire overhead now so you don't dance your jig hahahaha" all the way back out of the field. I should have known he had in mind for me to touch it because while we were unloading my truck, I grabbed the last bale of hay on the cab and the blanket used to keep the truck from getting scratched up came with it and as I turned around my foot caught on it and I went flying over the second layer of hay bales and ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPP my forehead connected with that dang line and I couldn't move for awhile. My new dance steps were just going in the air trying to get that blanket off my foot. After getting my foot loose I was able to get down onto the ground to find relief for every orifice on my body. My sil was laughing so hard she wet herself. I didn't know what I was going to do about the hay because I told her that blame hay could stay there or unload itself before I got up there again. It took some time to get myself together and try to find a solution to the problem of getting the hay off my truck. We ended up getting a longer pole/tree sapling to raise the line to my satisfaction so we could finish the job of unloading that truck. After all I did have to drive back to New Orleans in it. I told my sil don't you be telling your husband about this, you hear, and she just started laughing all over again. Sure as could be she went inside laughing and ended up telling Pa and them about my buck dance on the hay.
That wasn't my first experience with the electric fence oh no.... my oldest brother always tried to get me by doing something when we were out working in the fields. The first time I shook hands with Mr. E Lectric Fence was when the same brother told me to "lift that wire so I can crawl under it then I'll hold it for you so you can get under it." Since he hadn't been too mean to me that day I just grabbed that wire to lift it up and it didn't want to turn loose. I was a hollering and a crying and dancing around and he started shouting let it go, let it go. He must have felt bad for that one because he told me he didn't think I would pick it up that way, he thought I would pick it up the sissified way with my thumb and forefinger. I let him know the only fence I picked up that way was barbed wire.
We can sit around now talking about all of the old days and laugh til our sides hurt. I did tell them that it wasn't right for me to not get my trip down the red carpet for being the family entertainment though.
Life was so simple back then and we didn't have to make all the decisions we do today because they were made for us. It is hard to believe we have come so far from what we were back then. It was difficult making decisions on my own for the first little while and then along came some real life education. I don't think we started growing up til we got out on our own because it was certainly a reality slap in the face when we left home. Oh the simple days of sitting on the porch on a Sunday afternoon after church turning the crank of the ice cream machine knowing we were in for a real treat when it was done. We all have our long ago yesterdays and some are more fondly thought of than others. Time marches on and we are soon forgotten just as our ancestors were. We do have an advantage of being able to capture those memories and store them for our future generations though. My children and grandchildren ask for stories about when I was young and I guess this is my way to preserve those stories.
Perhaps a story of the polecat and cane grinding would be good for next time. Until then I remain Just This...Alice
Friday, February 11, 2011
Finding Friday
It seems like I have lost Friday. I went to bed and didn't get much sleep last night. So I made my usual dose of medicine and drank it down leisurely. A cup of coffee seems to work the exact opposite on me when I'm tired. I laid down to take a nap around noon and didn't wake up til after 4:00pm. I have not had this much sleep at one bedtime in months. This week has been a very rough week for me with the weather and all. I didn't realize how badly the weather affected some parts of our bodies. As a child it was the rain on our tin roof that gave me such good sleep but now it aggravates my broken down body to where I can't sleep. I'm thankful for the rain to water the earth when we need it and lately our area of the country has needed it. Sometimes the weather dictates no working for the day.
However I can remember a time as a child that rain was no excuse to keep from hoeing the fields and getting rid of the weeds in our crops. When we awoke one day to find it raining (granted it was just a drizzle) we thought we wouldn't have to go hoe in the field for that day. Pa quickly told us a little rain never hurt anybody and we best hurry up and eat our breakfast and get to the job at hand. The morning was spent hoeing and grumbling about being wet to the core and why did we have to hoe in such nasty weather. We heard the holler for dinner time at noon and we all took off running to the house. We all took turns washing up and changing clothes then sat down to eat a good hot meal. Fried pork chops, collard greens, rice with gravy, butter beans, and homemade biscuits with home made butter slathered in the middle when it went on our plate. Back then there was no talking at the table by anyone. It was a sit down hurry up and eat then get back to work type of meal for us. Oh how I hated hoeing in the field and the rain made it even worse. Anything worse.... there is nothing that can compare to cropping sand lugs (the first leaves of tobacco next to the dirt) to finish filling the tobacco barn in a drizzling rain. My armpit would be full of sand, the tar from the leaves, and I couldn't wait to wash it all off.
It brings to mind the whole process of planting tobacco. First in March we would make a huge seed bed and plant tobacco seed. Then Pa would have the smallest child (which was me this time) walk lightly over the seed to pack them onto the earth. We would then cover the beds with gauze to keep frost off the seedlings if the weather called for frost. It also kept the birds out. I was 5 years old and my younger brother (age 2) and I were the only ones at home and the other 4 were in school. That is how I had the task of walking on the seed bed that day. As it was always do the job right or don't do it all and get a whipping for your trouble with Pa, I was terrified of doing it wrong. That was my lucky day because Pa told me I could go on up to the house to help mama with my brother. I started running and Pa hollered something to me and turning my head to look back while still running, I veered off course and fell over the logs that were nailed together to make the tobacco beds. Then I hollered and felt pain like I had never felt it before. On the outside of my left leg was a deep gash and I was bleeding profusely. Pa looked away and told me to go to the house to get mama's help. Mama turned away also and told me to go to the porch and rinse it off with water. She couldn't look at it either but told me what to do to help it. I never knew at that time both my parents would faint at the sight of blood running from a wound. My older brother and sister must have got that problem too cause they would faint too. Many years later I was told they had that problem and couldn't help it. I responded with it sure would have helped me to know that when I was 5 and had to deal with a wound to my leg. Life happens and we do what we have to do to make it in this ole world. When the seedlings were sprouted and tall enough to be out of danger we would remove the gauze and the sun and rain did its job in making them grow. When they were ready to be transplanted we would take crates to the tobacco beds and pull the biggest and best seedlings and pack them in the crates. Then we would get the mule and sled rigged up and ready to go plant our bounty. We had this thing called a tobacco planter to make it easier on us to get the job done. It was cone shaped with a divider so we put the plant on one side and when we pulled the handle water would come out at the bottom along with the plant. Then one of us would cover the hole made by this piece equipment. Those little seedlings looked so good all in rows of fresh tilled soil that we thought wouldn't have very many weeds it it. Ha! the joke was on us. That field had just as many weeds and we had to hoe the devil out of them that year. Perhaps it was the manure tea we poured on the ground for fertilizer. With hoeing the weeds out, rain, sunshine and back breaking work,it became time to start harvesting the tobacco leaves. Nothing is easy about that for sure. We started out cropping sand lugs and rushing to get away from the field. Later in the season when it was not as bad when cropping the boys would grab a horn worm off a leaf of tobacco and sling them things at us girls backs and we could hear them splat and feel the wet. Of course they were being boys and we were being girls but it became another matter altogether when they grabbed sand spurs and flung them at our backs. At that time it was no longer funny because it was too painful. We girls would take turns with pulling them off for each other. There was always one highlight of the day for us when we cropped tobacco. Someone went to the little store for RC cola or what ever kind of drink we wanted and a bag of salted peanuts to pour in the drinks after taking a big swallow of refreshing drink. That was our break and it gave us enough energy to finish the day (til dark thirty) time. The tobacco had to be strung by hand on sticks set on tobacco horses not to be mistaken for saw horses. These were taller and narrower and just the right height for a stringer to comfortably string while standing all day. The younger kids handed them the tobacco and another stacked them for putting in the tobacco barn when the croppers came in from the field. Our tobacco barn was much taller than most and some young guys were afraid of heights and would argue about who was going to take the crows nest position (the very top layer of rafters for hanging the sticks of tobacco) and when I was about 10 or 11 I jumped up and climbed up to the top telling them "Alright you chickens bring it on I'm tired and want to get done so don't make me wait on anybody for a stick of tobacco to hang." Pa couldn't believe how fast we filled that barn and of course it was expected next time as well.It was not difficult to decide who would take the crows nest spot after that. Pa would light the kerosene burners to cure the tobacco leaves. Kinda like an oven bakes bread but it made the leaves not so crispy or that would be a bad thing. When it was time we would take the tobacco down from the barn in reverse and pack it in the pack house til time for us to remove it from the sticks and pack it into big burlap sheets ready to take to the tobacco warehouses for sale. This was always a good sign of fun for us as there was always a street dance after tobacco season was done. The whole street by the courthouse was blocked off and we would have entertainment from some of the Grand ole Opry folks like Minnie Pearl, Little Jimmy Dickens, String Bean, The Stanley Brothers, and more I can't remember right now. After the entertainment there would be a drawing for prizes then dancing. Oh what fun that was. We didn't know how to dance but we surely gave it our best effort to do the dances we saw others doing. Square dancing was also popular back then and we did know how to do that dance. We all were so disappointed not to win anything but then they said we have one more prize and it's the grand prize of the night. "The name drawn is (Pa's name) come on up and claim your prize. We were so excited when we finally realized they meant Pa. Jumping up and down, squealing, laughing and the whole crowd got in on it so happy for us. We didn't have TV and someone even donated a used antenna so we could watch it. We thought we had hit the mother load with winning that console color TV. I can still remember watching Red Skeleton along with others on the Ed Sullivan show that first time. If you can imagine all of us sitting around a big box in our cowhide chairs staring at such a funny character as he was and laughing over his antics. Other entertainers came and went over the years and finally The Ed Sullivan Show went off the air. That was a very good tobacco season for us. Maybe next time I'll tell you about my experience with the electric fence when I came home on vacation one time. Until then I leave you with Just This...Alice
However I can remember a time as a child that rain was no excuse to keep from hoeing the fields and getting rid of the weeds in our crops. When we awoke one day to find it raining (granted it was just a drizzle) we thought we wouldn't have to go hoe in the field for that day. Pa quickly told us a little rain never hurt anybody and we best hurry up and eat our breakfast and get to the job at hand. The morning was spent hoeing and grumbling about being wet to the core and why did we have to hoe in such nasty weather. We heard the holler for dinner time at noon and we all took off running to the house. We all took turns washing up and changing clothes then sat down to eat a good hot meal. Fried pork chops, collard greens, rice with gravy, butter beans, and homemade biscuits with home made butter slathered in the middle when it went on our plate. Back then there was no talking at the table by anyone. It was a sit down hurry up and eat then get back to work type of meal for us. Oh how I hated hoeing in the field and the rain made it even worse. Anything worse.... there is nothing that can compare to cropping sand lugs (the first leaves of tobacco next to the dirt) to finish filling the tobacco barn in a drizzling rain. My armpit would be full of sand, the tar from the leaves, and I couldn't wait to wash it all off.
It brings to mind the whole process of planting tobacco. First in March we would make a huge seed bed and plant tobacco seed. Then Pa would have the smallest child (which was me this time) walk lightly over the seed to pack them onto the earth. We would then cover the beds with gauze to keep frost off the seedlings if the weather called for frost. It also kept the birds out. I was 5 years old and my younger brother (age 2) and I were the only ones at home and the other 4 were in school. That is how I had the task of walking on the seed bed that day. As it was always do the job right or don't do it all and get a whipping for your trouble with Pa, I was terrified of doing it wrong. That was my lucky day because Pa told me I could go on up to the house to help mama with my brother. I started running and Pa hollered something to me and turning my head to look back while still running, I veered off course and fell over the logs that were nailed together to make the tobacco beds. Then I hollered and felt pain like I had never felt it before. On the outside of my left leg was a deep gash and I was bleeding profusely. Pa looked away and told me to go to the house to get mama's help. Mama turned away also and told me to go to the porch and rinse it off with water. She couldn't look at it either but told me what to do to help it. I never knew at that time both my parents would faint at the sight of blood running from a wound. My older brother and sister must have got that problem too cause they would faint too. Many years later I was told they had that problem and couldn't help it. I responded with it sure would have helped me to know that when I was 5 and had to deal with a wound to my leg. Life happens and we do what we have to do to make it in this ole world. When the seedlings were sprouted and tall enough to be out of danger we would remove the gauze and the sun and rain did its job in making them grow. When they were ready to be transplanted we would take crates to the tobacco beds and pull the biggest and best seedlings and pack them in the crates. Then we would get the mule and sled rigged up and ready to go plant our bounty. We had this thing called a tobacco planter to make it easier on us to get the job done. It was cone shaped with a divider so we put the plant on one side and when we pulled the handle water would come out at the bottom along with the plant. Then one of us would cover the hole made by this piece equipment. Those little seedlings looked so good all in rows of fresh tilled soil that we thought wouldn't have very many weeds it it. Ha! the joke was on us. That field had just as many weeds and we had to hoe the devil out of them that year. Perhaps it was the manure tea we poured on the ground for fertilizer. With hoeing the weeds out, rain, sunshine and back breaking work,it became time to start harvesting the tobacco leaves. Nothing is easy about that for sure. We started out cropping sand lugs and rushing to get away from the field. Later in the season when it was not as bad when cropping the boys would grab a horn worm off a leaf of tobacco and sling them things at us girls backs and we could hear them splat and feel the wet. Of course they were being boys and we were being girls but it became another matter altogether when they grabbed sand spurs and flung them at our backs. At that time it was no longer funny because it was too painful. We girls would take turns with pulling them off for each other. There was always one highlight of the day for us when we cropped tobacco. Someone went to the little store for RC cola or what ever kind of drink we wanted and a bag of salted peanuts to pour in the drinks after taking a big swallow of refreshing drink. That was our break and it gave us enough energy to finish the day (til dark thirty) time. The tobacco had to be strung by hand on sticks set on tobacco horses not to be mistaken for saw horses. These were taller and narrower and just the right height for a stringer to comfortably string while standing all day. The younger kids handed them the tobacco and another stacked them for putting in the tobacco barn when the croppers came in from the field. Our tobacco barn was much taller than most and some young guys were afraid of heights and would argue about who was going to take the crows nest position (the very top layer of rafters for hanging the sticks of tobacco) and when I was about 10 or 11 I jumped up and climbed up to the top telling them "Alright you chickens bring it on I'm tired and want to get done so don't make me wait on anybody for a stick of tobacco to hang." Pa couldn't believe how fast we filled that barn and of course it was expected next time as well.It was not difficult to decide who would take the crows nest spot after that. Pa would light the kerosene burners to cure the tobacco leaves. Kinda like an oven bakes bread but it made the leaves not so crispy or that would be a bad thing. When it was time we would take the tobacco down from the barn in reverse and pack it in the pack house til time for us to remove it from the sticks and pack it into big burlap sheets ready to take to the tobacco warehouses for sale. This was always a good sign of fun for us as there was always a street dance after tobacco season was done. The whole street by the courthouse was blocked off and we would have entertainment from some of the Grand ole Opry folks like Minnie Pearl, Little Jimmy Dickens, String Bean, The Stanley Brothers, and more I can't remember right now. After the entertainment there would be a drawing for prizes then dancing. Oh what fun that was. We didn't know how to dance but we surely gave it our best effort to do the dances we saw others doing. Square dancing was also popular back then and we did know how to do that dance. We all were so disappointed not to win anything but then they said we have one more prize and it's the grand prize of the night. "The name drawn is (Pa's name) come on up and claim your prize. We were so excited when we finally realized they meant Pa. Jumping up and down, squealing, laughing and the whole crowd got in on it so happy for us. We didn't have TV and someone even donated a used antenna so we could watch it. We thought we had hit the mother load with winning that console color TV. I can still remember watching Red Skeleton along with others on the Ed Sullivan show that first time. If you can imagine all of us sitting around a big box in our cowhide chairs staring at such a funny character as he was and laughing over his antics. Other entertainers came and went over the years and finally The Ed Sullivan Show went off the air. That was a very good tobacco season for us. Maybe next time I'll tell you about my experience with the electric fence when I came home on vacation one time. Until then I leave you with Just This...Alice
Monday, February 7, 2011
Move over Monday I'm not done with Sunday
We've all had those days that we wonder just where did all the hours in the day go. Today I stayed in bed most of the day feeling yucky and all the pain of my disability. I would have gotten a lot done if it wasn't for that. Would've, could've, should've but didn't. I know..., one excuse is as good as another.
I will say i got my daughter and granddaughter's purses done and the coin purse to go with them on Saturday. Pictures????? That's the problem I'm having. I have a non working cell phone but the camera part works and I was coached on how to get the one picture posted. If it isn't written down for me to follow every time I go to do something I can't remember how. Does anyone know of a book or a site that gives instructions that I can print to have to add photos and write in the same post? Those purses were something I lay in bed thinking about one night when my daughter asked for a Gator Team purse. I have made many a rag bag and regular tote but not a purse. Her request was easy access from the top ( top is made like a tote). A big pocket on the outside with some trim on it and different than the square ones (pocket is gathered on the outside with a liner that isn't and the Gator grosgrain ribbon on the edge to keep the opening from stretching). The little coin purse is just one of the fold over ones you see all over the blogs. I didn't know how to make it but just winged it and used Velcro for a closure. My granddaughter's purse is so adorable. This will be her first big girl purse now that she is all of 4 going on .... The bag has a gathered front and straignt sided back and lining. i did put a necklace chain on it with a long loop from strap side to strap side. To this (if you can imagine hanging clothes on the line), I sewed Gator emblems I cut out and prepared from a piece of fabric. Her little coin purse was made the same way but smaller than my daughters. My daughters reaction "Mom (squeal here) I love them. You never cease to amaze me with the stuff you can make. Thank you so very much." That was all it took to make me feel on top of the world that day. It's painful for me to sit up so I have to do it in batches and it takes me a long time it seems to ever finish something. The stuff I can do while reclined back on about 20 pillows on my bed I can get done faster. Quilts and crocheting, and sewing by hand are the things I can do while in bed. Oh and draw sketches of what I'd like to do. That is how I did the drawing of the purse, laying back in bed. I might even get done with the crochet blanket for my son by next Christmas. His favorite color is white and I had made him one about 10 years ago to fit his queen sized bed. It ended up the last year being a sleeping blanket for his dog that ended up passing away from a very fast acting cancer. In three weeks time a quarter sized lump he took her to the vet about was the size of a grapefruit when she died about three weeks after finding it. I am so thankful he had a compassionate vet to help him through all this when she told him there was nothing that could be done for her.
OK enough of that tear jerker where was I???????? Oh yes about moving over Monday cause I'm not done with Sunday. It seems the older I get the more I can expect those kind of days but I don't want to cause I am not old enough to sit back in a rocking chair and give up. I'm only kissing 60 in May. All my life I have worked hard at jobs some men won't do let alone women so I could take care of my children. I guess you could say my growing up and working on a farm gave me a good constitution as Pa would say. It certainly helped me handle a lot through the years. Anywho.... I am up in the middle of the night (1:00a.m.) writing about not being done with Sunday. The light bulb has gone off and Monday arrived right on schedule and until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice
I will say i got my daughter and granddaughter's purses done and the coin purse to go with them on Saturday. Pictures????? That's the problem I'm having. I have a non working cell phone but the camera part works and I was coached on how to get the one picture posted. If it isn't written down for me to follow every time I go to do something I can't remember how. Does anyone know of a book or a site that gives instructions that I can print to have to add photos and write in the same post? Those purses were something I lay in bed thinking about one night when my daughter asked for a Gator Team purse. I have made many a rag bag and regular tote but not a purse. Her request was easy access from the top ( top is made like a tote). A big pocket on the outside with some trim on it and different than the square ones (pocket is gathered on the outside with a liner that isn't and the Gator grosgrain ribbon on the edge to keep the opening from stretching). The little coin purse is just one of the fold over ones you see all over the blogs. I didn't know how to make it but just winged it and used Velcro for a closure. My granddaughter's purse is so adorable. This will be her first big girl purse now that she is all of 4 going on .... The bag has a gathered front and straignt sided back and lining. i did put a necklace chain on it with a long loop from strap side to strap side. To this (if you can imagine hanging clothes on the line), I sewed Gator emblems I cut out and prepared from a piece of fabric. Her little coin purse was made the same way but smaller than my daughters. My daughters reaction "Mom (squeal here) I love them. You never cease to amaze me with the stuff you can make. Thank you so very much." That was all it took to make me feel on top of the world that day. It's painful for me to sit up so I have to do it in batches and it takes me a long time it seems to ever finish something. The stuff I can do while reclined back on about 20 pillows on my bed I can get done faster. Quilts and crocheting, and sewing by hand are the things I can do while in bed. Oh and draw sketches of what I'd like to do. That is how I did the drawing of the purse, laying back in bed. I might even get done with the crochet blanket for my son by next Christmas. His favorite color is white and I had made him one about 10 years ago to fit his queen sized bed. It ended up the last year being a sleeping blanket for his dog that ended up passing away from a very fast acting cancer. In three weeks time a quarter sized lump he took her to the vet about was the size of a grapefruit when she died about three weeks after finding it. I am so thankful he had a compassionate vet to help him through all this when she told him there was nothing that could be done for her.
OK enough of that tear jerker where was I???????? Oh yes about moving over Monday cause I'm not done with Sunday. It seems the older I get the more I can expect those kind of days but I don't want to cause I am not old enough to sit back in a rocking chair and give up. I'm only kissing 60 in May. All my life I have worked hard at jobs some men won't do let alone women so I could take care of my children. I guess you could say my growing up and working on a farm gave me a good constitution as Pa would say. It certainly helped me handle a lot through the years. Anywho.... I am up in the middle of the night (1:00a.m.) writing about not being done with Sunday. The light bulb has gone off and Monday arrived right on schedule and until next time I leave you with Just This...Alice
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