On some mornings, if I hurried right back with the milk, I’d be able to go
with my Uncle Delmar when he went to check his traps, a chore he did
first and last thing every day. Mostly he’d get muskrat, groundhog,
possum and such, but once in a while, he’d strike it "rich" and snag a fox or
Lynx. Uncle Delmar stretched, dried and scraped the skins and then,
every four or five weeks we’d pile them up, and walk to the farm of Mr.
Cooley, who would buy them.
Some days it would be back to the Bowers’ for play. They had three kids -
Ronnie, one year older than I, Jimmy, my age, and Jenny, one year my
Junior. One of our favorite pastimes was "calf rodeo." We rode ’em, roped
’em, wrestled ’em, and generally made their young lives miserable.
Sometimes we’d cut a melon away from the vine, and take it down to the
Creek (pronounced crick) and weigh it down in the stream with a big rock.
Later, we’d return and bust that booger open and...
GO..........
Sometimes, we’d go back to Granny’s and raid her Grape Arbor, or her
Strawberry patch. You had to be a commando of sorts, because that patch
was visible from the kitchen and Granny would see you if you stood straight
up. Sometimes, by myself, I would lay in there for an hour, just "a-pickin’
and a-grinnin’.. She had turnips, scallions, leeks, tomatoes and what-all,
and we’d eat anything right off the vine or out of the ground. I remember,
at one point, we Kids kept a pilfered salt shaker and an old boning knife
hidden for these banquets. I used to love eating a turnip like an apple, but my
teeth aren’t up to it any more.
After lunch (we called it dinner, for some strange reason) I needed to slop
the hogs. Then I could...
GO.....
Some afternoons were spent exploring, through the woods, upstream or
maybe down. Some days we’d go squirrel, rabbit or crow hunting. The days
were always full, and I don’t recall ever being bored or lonely, even if I
was alone.
Some days I’d go with Granny. She’d take a basket and we’d be off to the
Wherever to collect ramps, fiddlehead ferns, dandelion greens or whatever
else. She’d dig ’em up and I’d carry the basket, and Lord, I wish I’d paid
better attention at the time......
Granny made wine through all the warm weather. Dandelion wine, fruit
Wines and Clover Wine. Her jugs of wine were the inspiration for a ’macho’
game that Ronnie and Jimmy and I played. The gallon jugs of wine were
lined up on a "low" roof (one easily accessed from ground level) and, Laws,
did these jugs ever attract the bees! I understand that the American honeybee
is near extinction, and that in some growing areas they even have to hire a
Bee truck to park next to the fields for a week so that the vegetable flowers
will get pollinated. Well, not back then, and not around Granny’s wine jugs.
We three would see who could "jar" the most bees in say, 15 minutes -
dangerous work, even for a ten year old who’s gonna live forever!
Usually after supper, I’d ride back over to the bowers’ and help with the
Milking. They were dairy farmers, and I think they had about a million
Head. Mr. Bowers also sold compost on the side! (For every one of Mr.
Bowers’ cows, Mrs. Bowers had a cat.) Sometimes I’d stay after milking
and we’d all play at one game or another, outdoor games or parlor games,
depending on the weather. Needless to mention, Jenny Bowers was my
first crush.
(Part Three to Follow...)
with my Uncle Delmar when he went to check his traps, a chore he did
first and last thing every day. Mostly he’d get muskrat, groundhog,
possum and such, but once in a while, he’d strike it "rich" and snag a fox or
Lynx. Uncle Delmar stretched, dried and scraped the skins and then,
every four or five weeks we’d pile them up, and walk to the farm of Mr.
Cooley, who would buy them.
Some days it would be back to the Bowers’ for play. They had three kids -
Ronnie, one year older than I, Jimmy, my age, and Jenny, one year my
Junior. One of our favorite pastimes was "calf rodeo." We rode ’em, roped
’em, wrestled ’em, and generally made their young lives miserable.
Sometimes we’d cut a melon away from the vine, and take it down to the
Creek (pronounced crick) and weigh it down in the stream with a big rock.
Later, we’d return and bust that booger open and...
GO..........
Sometimes, we’d go back to Granny’s and raid her Grape Arbor, or her
Strawberry patch. You had to be a commando of sorts, because that patch
was visible from the kitchen and Granny would see you if you stood straight
up. Sometimes, by myself, I would lay in there for an hour, just "a-pickin’
and a-grinnin’.. She had turnips, scallions, leeks, tomatoes and what-all,
and we’d eat anything right off the vine or out of the ground. I remember,
at one point, we Kids kept a pilfered salt shaker and an old boning knife
hidden for these banquets. I used to love eating a turnip like an apple, but my
teeth aren’t up to it any more.
After lunch (we called it dinner, for some strange reason) I needed to slop
the hogs. Then I could...
GO.....
Some afternoons were spent exploring, through the woods, upstream or
maybe down. Some days we’d go squirrel, rabbit or crow hunting. The days
were always full, and I don’t recall ever being bored or lonely, even if I
was alone.
Some days I’d go with Granny. She’d take a basket and we’d be off to the
Wherever to collect ramps, fiddlehead ferns, dandelion greens or whatever
else. She’d dig ’em up and I’d carry the basket, and Lord, I wish I’d paid
better attention at the time......
Granny made wine through all the warm weather. Dandelion wine, fruit
Wines and Clover Wine. Her jugs of wine were the inspiration for a ’macho’
game that Ronnie and Jimmy and I played. The gallon jugs of wine were
lined up on a "low" roof (one easily accessed from ground level) and, Laws,
did these jugs ever attract the bees! I understand that the American honeybee
is near extinction, and that in some growing areas they even have to hire a
Bee truck to park next to the fields for a week so that the vegetable flowers
will get pollinated. Well, not back then, and not around Granny’s wine jugs.
We three would see who could "jar" the most bees in say, 15 minutes -
dangerous work, even for a ten year old who’s gonna live forever!
Usually after supper, I’d ride back over to the bowers’ and help with the
Milking. They were dairy farmers, and I think they had about a million
Head. Mr. Bowers also sold compost on the side! (For every one of Mr.
Bowers’ cows, Mrs. Bowers had a cat.) Sometimes I’d stay after milking
and we’d all play at one game or another, outdoor games or parlor games,
depending on the weather. Needless to mention, Jenny Bowers was my
first crush.
(Part Three to Follow...)