Yesterday

I was thinking about my childhood recently, well I do it a lot actually. My
first memory to be exact. We had just moved to the farm of my childhood. It
lay at the end of a long lane that wound around the barn, behind the house
and sort of petered out at the back tobacco shed where it turned into a path
to access the fields on the east side of the farm. In front of the tobacco
shed it turned into a sandy oasis. It was shaded by huge apple trees from
the orchard on the other side of the fence. This is where my brothers, 10
and 12 years older than me were found playing with------the mill!!! They had
a vast array of little trucks, wagons and tractors working at 'the mill'.
Mom had made them bunches of tiny muslin feed bags filled with sand to haul
around on these entrancing vehicles. I remember standing in the tall grass
along the lane, yearning to join in the fun. I was 3 1/2 yrs. old and far to
young to drive. I crouched there trying to imagine what it would be like to
make the put-put sound of those machines. How would it feel to load them and
haul them to 'the mill' where they were unloaded carefully and stacked
neatly for the farmers. My fat little fingers were locked together to keep
me from exploding from my hiding place. Rod and Terry were very serious
millers. They took care of their machinery. 3 yr. olds were strictly
forbidden from entering the work area.

Just then I heard a REAL truck approaching the barn. My brothers took off
like lightening to see the new tractor (our first) being unloaded. Now was
my chance. I darted out of the grass, looking to be sure the millers were
still in the distance. Oh heaven!!!! Down in the sand I lay. I carefully
touched the little bags of grain. I gently pushed the little tractors,
making tracks in the sand. Put-put-put. The trucks started a wiggly drive to
the mill. Every few seconds I'd check over my shoulder, looking for the
boys. They were too busy with a REAL tractor to bother with these little
imitations. How long I played I don't know. All I know was it was bliss. I
had many more blissful hours, days and years on that farm. For some reason
my mother had no sense of danger about her children. She swore she knew
exactly what we were doing all the time, but I KNOW she didn't know most of
the things I was doing. She was too busy keeping us in cakes, cookies and
wonderful meals to see me slide the top off the well in the back pasture and
stir it with a stick. As a 5 yr. old, I was given a large horse by my uncle.
I rode him miles a day. She never even questioned where I had been. Had she
known I had found farm sales to attend? Sitting on the high perch of my
horses back I could see every thing that was going on. Old men gave me
barbeque sandwiches made by the church women and sold at sales. I didn't
know them from Adam till then. Now we were fast friends. One bought me a
pair of civil war spurs. What a treasure they were. I didn't know the
monetary value, but they are in my living room today.

Mom didn't know that I rode my horse to all the tobacco shops in the little
towns sprinkled around our neighborhood. These were usually in the back of
the only street in town. Long, narrow white buildings with yawning doors. In
the darkness men and women sat at long tables making countless cigars and
packing them in wonderful wooden boxes that I craved. You see I had
treasures to hold. I needed such boxes to hold them. I amassed quite a stack
of them and filled them all. None survive. What became of them I will never
know. Mom swore she never threw them out. I KNOW I never did. These sweet,
hard working people took the time to talk to a child. To answer endless
questions and to watch out for me. A glass of cool water, a bologna sandwich
on homemade bread, taffy for the journey home. Thank God for my freedom as a
child. I have endless stories to tell, memories to keep me smiling till I go
to the home. Some time I'll tell you about the cattle roundup I went on and
chased the neighbors cows almost to the river. Whew!!! It's a wonder I am
still here to tell about it. All because of 'Covered Wagon Theater" on the
new TV thingy we got. Don't tell ME TV doesn't influence children!!!