Text 6144, 92 rader
Skriven 2006-10-03 11:12:42 av hap newsom (1:275/311)
     Kommentar till en text av Barbara McNay
Ärende: RE: Cotton picking
==========================
HEy Barbara!
-> 
->  >->  >->  >->
->  >->-> Heheh!  Well, at least she knew where you were.
->  >->  >->  >->
->  >>  > Yep and I was a scamp as a kid...she needed to keep an
->  >>  > eye on me (grin)
->  >->  >->
->  >->  >-> And with that "attractive nuisance" of a sack, she didn't need 
eyes i
->  > n
->  > the
->  >->  >
->  >->  > back
->  >->  >-> of her head to know what you were up to!
->  >->  >->
->  >->  > She was always **AFRAID** of what I was up to!
->  >->
->  >-> Uhoh.  My imagination isn't that good that I can picture a never-seen 
fiel
->  > d
->  > of
->  >-> cotton being manually picked, and the possibilities for mischief seen 
by a
->  >-> young boy being towed around on a sack therein.  Care to enlighten 
us?
->  >->
->  >-> ---
->  > My mother comes from a large southern Farming
->  > family....so I had a whole
->  > pack of cousins who were right around my age...about 5
->  > or 6 who were within
->  > a year of me and we ran like a pack of wild dogs. If
->  > we weren't IN trouble we
->  > were doing something that would get us there in a
->  > hurry (grin). For example
->  > the cotton was kept in a huge barn once it was picked
->  > weighed and emptied
->  > into the wagons...and the temptation to jump into all
->  > that cotton from
->  > waaaay up high in the barn was often more than we
-> 
-> Heh.  I had friends who had a farm of sorts and another whose family 
trained
-> show horses, so I got a little taste of the "rural" life, even though they 
were
-> all within city limits.  I used to creep through tunnels in a hay loft, but
I
-> wasn't brave enough to jump way down there on to the haystack.
-> 
We did that as well and I still love the smell of fresh cut hay! 

->  > could resist....even
->  > aftere repeated whallopings we'd still sneak up into
->  > the barn and jump into all
->  > that clean white cotton...and get it filled with
->  > twigs, sticks and dirt...which
->  > dropped the price that was paid for it at the cotton
->  > gin...we also loved to
->  > chase the chickens...and pigs...the goats would butt
-> 
-> What, no rooster to chase you?  And I assume they were young pigs that 
you
-> chased.
-> 
Pigs can't sweat...and we were OFTEN told not to chase them around, even 
the big ones will run and they look much funnier than the little ones when 
they do....Once we chased them around a whole lot....and they looked really 
distressed ( Summer in the Deep South, temps near the 100 mark probably) 
and HOT....so we got the hose to cool em off.....We started spraying them 
with the very cold water pumped up from the well......and one of the big 
Sow's keeled right over, dead as a doornail! Boy did we get whalloped over 
that! 

->  > us if we chased
->  > them...so they were safe unless we could suprise 'em.
->  > Also we had a habit of
->  > running into my grandfather's tobacco patch and
->  > hiding...those were BIIIIG
->  > leaves! Or any myriad of other little things we could
->  > get into if we weren't
->  > being watched...and many times we weren't (chuckle).
-> 
-> Y'know, I raised just one kid, and I think that was the right number for me.
-> <g>
-> 
After my childhood...I was afraid to have more than one as well! Thank 
goodness she took after her mother! (grin)
chat with you soon
hap 
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