Saturday, October 14, 2006

School lunch in a syrup bucket.

AFTER THE WAR DADDY BOUGHT THE FARM ON DRY CREEK THAT FLETA CALLS HOME NOW. I WAS 8 YEARS OLD AND MY BROTHER RICHARD WAS 7 YEARS YOUNG. FOR 2 YEARS WE WERE GOING TO SCHOOL AT COIN AR. AND HAD TO WALK 2 MILES AND A HALF EACH WAY.
WE WENT TO SCHOOL COME RAIN OR SHINE. SNOW WAS NOT CONSIDERED A REASON FOR NOT GOING TO SCHOOL. WE HAD TO CROSS DRY CREEK AND DADDY CUT A TREE AND FELL IT ACROSS THE CREEK AND THIS WAS OUR FOOT BRIDGE.
WE CARRIED OUR LUNCH IN TWO KARO SYRUP BUCKETS . DADDY PUNCHED HOLES IN THE LID TO STOP SWEETING OF OUR EGG SANDWICH. MOTHER MASHED A BOILED EGG EACH MORNING ADDED CREAM, SALT AND PEPPER AND THEN SPREAD THE EGG MIXTURE ON A SLICE OF LIGHT BREAD TOPED THIS WITH ANOTHER SLICE OF BREAD AND THIS WAS OUR LUNCH. WE USED THE TERM "LIGHT BREAD " FOR BREAD PURCHED AT THE STORE.
ONE FROSTY MORNING WHILE CROSSING THE FOOT BRIDGE OVER THE CREEK RICHARD DROPPED HIS PAIL INTO THE WATER. WE SCAMPERED OVER THE BRIDGE AND RACED DOWN THE CREAK TO THE SHOALS TO GET RICHARDS LUNCH. HE WADED IN AND SAVED HIS LUNCH BUT NOW HIS FEET WERE WET AND THE HOLES IN THE PAIL HAD LET CREEK WATER IN HIS SANDWICH SO WE WENT HOME.
IT IS STANGE BUT WE CONSIDERED THAT WE WERE A UNIT AND IF ONE COULDN'T GO TO THE SCHOOL THE OTHER COULDN'T GO .
DADDY CONSIDERED US A UNIT ALSO BECAUSE I RECEIVED AS MUCH SCOLDING AS RICHARD DID FOR DROPPING THE LUNCH PAIL.
AfTER THAT DADDY WENT TO TOWN AND BOUGHT US RUBBER FOOT WEAR TO GO OVER OUR SHOES. THESE GOLOSHES CAME UP ABOVE OUR ANKLES. THE VERY FIRST DAY IT HAD RAINED WE START OFF AND RICHARD IS WADING EVERY MUD PUDDLE THAT WAS IN THE DIRT ROAD. MUCH TO MY DISGUST. I WOULD SAY DON'T WADE THE MUD PUDDLE. SOLSH, SOLSH! WENT RICHARD. DOWN AROUND MY UNCLES HOUSE WE CAME TO A VERY BIG PUDDLE. I AM SAYING DON'T WADE THAT WATER. RICHARD SAID IT OK I HAVE MY GOLISHES ON . IN THE MIDDLE OF THE PUDDLE THE WATER CAME TO RICHARDS MID CALF. BACK TO THE HOUSE WE GO AND WE WERE INTO MORE TALKING TOO FROM DADDY.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

This makes me wish that I could have gone along to Dry Creek and Coin with you and our Old Brother.

Do you remember the story of Daddy going to school to his father at Coin and playing with the little bead which he lost and Grandpa Powell made him look for it all day.

We are the tie that binds. The knot is in our soul and cannot be broken. In many ways we are one, as Daddy taught you.
Sister 3

dot said...

Thanks for telling that story Patsy. I enjoy hearing all your stories.

Betty said...

I'm enjoying your stories. They remind me of the stories some of my inlaws used to tell about their childhood in St. Joe.

Annie said...

OOh, what a soggy sandwich that would have been, along with soggy socks. Patsy, you have some wonderful stories; don't you know your family is pleased to have you writing them down where they can print them off and keep them for the grandchildren! Sister, now you have "gone along to Dry Creek and Coin", just as you wished, only it is in your imagination. And, lucky me, I was there too.

Tina Leigh said...

Patsy sounds like good ole days to me...wish I had some of that sandwich too. Brother shore did get yall in a mess sometimes...thats why yall have the reunions at his house now, LOL!! Your family always sounds fun!!

Carole Burant said...

LOL cute story...I grew up with 4 brothers so I know how they don't listen to a word a sister tells them! lol

Anonymous said...

Patsy, I am sorry...you fixed the blog so I could comment and someone has left a spam message here. You can fix it back the other way if you want as I can sign in under Laura's name.