This Way To My Blog

This Way To My Blog

Sunday, February 4, 2018

More Memories

If I remember correctly this picture of me is outside the yard of the house I was born in. Doesn't the ground look dry? No one had lawns back then in this area anyway. Daddy farmed then and it had to be dry land farming because I don't remember seeing an irrigation system until much later. Daddy used mules to farm until lightening struck and killed them. He called it farming on the halves which I guess is the same thing as sharecroppers as we lived on a place but did not own it. Daddy did the work and shared the profit with the owner. The only recreation I remember was Mama and Daddy moving all the furniture and linoleum out of a room. A band played that night and their friends came to the dance. There were pallets (quilts on the floor) with babies asleep in an area of the room to the side. Since I lived there and had a bed I was not allowed to stay up to watch the dancing but I'm sure I wanted to. When my sister was born they bought a goat for milk for her but I always thought it was my pet. when she was weaned they sold the goat but I didn't know someone was coming to buy it. I cried and cried. One night a pack of Coyotes were in the field howling and carrying on. Daddy and Mama was going out, not sure what they intended to do. Chase them off or kill them with a gun before they killed some of the farm animals I suppose. I wanted so bad to go out with them but was told to stay in the house. This house was made of sand rock that so many houses in this area are made of. They didn't have to buy it they dug it our of the fields. It must have been good stuff because there are still many houses and buildings that are still standing and in fairly good shape. Even the church we go to is made of it and the auditorium at the school I studied in all twelve years.

8 comments:

Jon said...

I always enjoy the memories that you share. They are fascinating. People like your parents were such incredibly hard workers. They were the foundation of America.
Wow! It's really scary that the mules were killed by lightning.

Leilani Schuck Weatherington said...

Did you mean "sandstone"? There are a number of WPA buildings in our town that were made of sandstone. They are beautiful and look like they will last forever. My mom grew up on a ranch in Colorado without indoor plumbing, hence the term "back door trots" for intestinal upsets,or electricity (at least for a while). My husband's parents were sharecroppers in Tennessee until they moved to California in the 1930s. Most of my generation has not grown up in these circumstances. A way of life, and the memories associated with it, are definitely passing away.

LV said...

I can relate to your past as I was born in 1929, depression days. Mine was not a good life but we ad love.

jack69 said...

I enjoy all your memories. You were a cute kid. I came much late but dad too was a sharecropper, at that time it didn't sound as bad as it is made out today. It was a normal way of life for a person who was not afraid of work.
But Oh do I remember Pallets!
Keep 'em coming 'cutie!'

Lori said...

Great memories! Love the picture. I'm well acquainted with pallets lol. Our house was small, so if we had company, the kids would sleep on pallets on the floor. Once when my paternal grandmother was at our house Mom had some company come by. It was a friend who had brought some out-of-state (cityfolk) friends of hers to meet my Mom. My grandmother was getting a bit senile. She didn't really know who they were or take part in the conversation, but when they got ready to go she told them, "You welst to just spend the night. We can put a pallet on the floor." Our friend thanked her and told her they had to go, but that they'd come back to see her another time, and after they left her friends asked her, "What did she mean, they'd put a pallet on the floor?" So our friend had to explain what a pallet was.

Chatty Crone said...

Oh my goodness Paula - I just loved this story too. You sure do mind better than the kids of today. Your memory is impressive too. Sounds like your life was hard - but you were always taken care of.

Paula said...

I was told at one time the material is called Sand Rock but sometime things down here get called a wrong name for years. It is a dark red and it does look like rocks. Plus the church we go to is made of it and it is called Old Rock church.

Hootin' Anni said...

Cute photo of you! I so enjoy your stories of growing up in Texas. I think they wouldn't have to try very hard to convince me to stay indoors with coyotes outside, howling!