Country Writings

Saturday, February 25, 2006

My grandmother and "booze".

One of my favorite memories is that of my brothe and Iwalking to my grandmother's house. It was about 2 miles to their house and we walked up that dirt road, eager to see our grandparents. One day Grandma was sitting on the front porch and after talking awhile, I left Bob talking to her and I went into the kitchen and started "prowling" in Grandma's cabinets. I found a small bottle of whiskey and took it to the front porch and asked my grandmother, ":What is this?" She replied that she used the whiskey in case she or Grandpa got a cold and then she would make them a "hot toddy" and it would make them feel better. I asked her would ashe make Bob and me one. She said she would and in a few minutes she came back out and handed both of us a glass with the "hot toddy" Well, i thought that was very good and Iasked if I could have another and she fixed me another. Well when we got home and Mama smelled that booze on our breath and noticed I was a little wobbly, she ;pitched a fit. She told my Dadto tell his Mother to never give us kids any more booze and that was the end of that.

Monday, February 20, 2006


Growing up in Yell county,Ar. during the depression could have been a sad time. My Mom and Dad had to work so hard on a farm and later my Dad was a grocery peddler, driving a grocery truck,over country roads, many miles per day. But you see, I did not suffer from being poor becaause love is the greatest gift parents can give their children and I had plenty of that. Sure, I picked and hoed cotton--I gathered corn, pulled peanuts, and the worst chore for me, was picking up potatoes after Daddy plowed them up. But in these fields, working beside me was my mother, brother, cousins and friends. As we chopped and picked cotton we talked and laughed and had fun working together. In picking the cotton there would be some green boles not open yet. One day, a man was driving a log truck up the lane right by our cotton patch. A young man pulled one of those green cotton boles and threw it through the truck window, hitting the man right on his Adam's apple. That truck came to a screeching halt and that truck driver came into the cotton patch, angerily demanding to know who threw that cotton bole, cutting off his breath!Of course none of us had any idea who had done such a thing!!

Thursday, February 16, 2006

After retiring from teaching I started substituting in 4 elementary schools in Okla. City, Ok. Having always taught 4th grade I learned quickly that when I subbed for kdgn. my vocabulary had to change!!One day a little 5 year old had gotten into trouble at recess and came in crying. He informed me that his getting into trouble was all Joe's fault, that Joe was the one that told him to do what he did. In my 4th grade vocabulary Isay"Well, if Joe told you to jump off a mountain, would you?"Kenny sobbed, :I don't ccare anything about a MOUNTAIN,I'm telling you that Joe got me into trouble!"

Wednesday, February 15, 2006


A brook--sometimes fast moving---sometimes slow and lazy. A place of contentment--sitting on cool,cool moss under the spreading friendly arms of a tree. The brook--never troubled--never demanding--only running on its course since time began.

It was a short walk to the brook. Soimetimes cows were drinking thristily and slowly. A girl sitting by their place of refreshment does not bother them. The girl is a little frightened by so many cows in one place--so much power behind those long horns--but the cows abate their thirst, walk up thebank and disappear into the thick,dark woods.

All troubles and anger leave the heart as the peacefulness of the running water speak to a soul. God is so near beside a brook. He seems to speak from the tranquility ofthe flowing water'be still and know that I am God."

Such peace!!How the heart yearns again for this peace. The brook no longer runs here. Man has averted the water to another place--so another place of refuge and contentment is gone!