Country Writings

Monday, May 15, 2006

When I was a teen-ager in Gravelly, Arkansas, we had, what we called ,chicken frizzes all the time.We would pick a night when we all couldget together at the Dutch reek bridge ,right by the Blue Hole, where we swam all thetime. The boys would go to different houses in the community and steal 2 or 3 chickens.There was a wonderful, running creek under the bridge and we would pick the chickens and clean them andthen fry us up a bunch of chicken to eat. And all the time we would be telling stories, pushng each other into the creek
,just having a good old time. One night, my cousin, Ted, and my brother, Bob, were stealing the chickens and decided that 2 was not enough and tied those two chickens to the fence and went back to get more.My cousin ,Dortha, was not allowed to go with us and one night she was going to let us have a couple of skillets in which to fry the chicken.As she was sneaking the skillets out the back door to one ofthe guys, her mother caught her and they had to give those skillets back!! There was a large, empoty house right by the creek and ne night, when it was cold, we took wood we collected in the woods and built a fire in the fire place ofthe old house andthat night, we fried the chicken in that fire place. I have thought since, how awful it would have been if something had casught fire and the house had burned down, but we were having too much fun to think of thosethings. We didn't need "a joint" to get high in those days. We got high by having justhad great fun being together ,singing, telling stories, a little hugging and kissing . Aw, for the good ole days again!!

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

The Brook

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. Sometimes cows were drinking thristily and slowly. A girl sitting by their place of refreshment does not bother them. The girl is a little frightenhed by so many cows in one place--so much power behind those long horns--but the cows abate their thristr, walk up the bank and disappear into the thick,dark woods.

All troubles and anger leave the heart as the peacefulness of the running water speaks 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 there--man has averted the ewater to another place-so another place of contentment-gone.