I know I have written about my Plevna years, but in case you missed it let me go there again. Grandma Haas, who was Mother's mother, had a stroke mys last year of grade school. Great Grandma Hatfield was pushing 100 and could not take care of her alone, so I was sent to stay with them and do what I could. This meant I started my Freshman year in the little Plevna High School. The whole high school was less then 40 kids. Plevna was a farming community and all the kids in school were farmer's kids. I stuck out like a sore thumb. But it was what it was and there I stayed. I do not remember any of those kids I went to school with. There was a family named Smith that lived catty cornered from the grandma's and I went over there sometimes, but was under strict orders not to look at their television because that was the work of the devil!
The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Smith and a whole bunch of girls. I can recall 5 for sure. I never saw a boy, so that may have been the family. There may have been a son some where but I do not recall. Mr. Smith had one blue eye and one brown eye. That was something I had never seen before and have not seen since. I see it occasionally in dogs, but never in a human. Of course, I do not actually seek the phenomenon out, so it may slip by me undetected.
There were several things that amazed and intrigued me about the Smith family. The first was the size of the house. It was a two story that had never seen a coat of paint. It must have been about 10 rooms and was lathe and plaster. I know this because the ceiling of the foyer fell down and we were then relegated to using the back door because no one cleaned up the mess. Later the ceiling in the front room would fall also. That was more serious as Mr. Smith was napping on the couch under it when it collapsed and received a small cut. We did praise God that it was not more serious! One room contained a quilt frame which always held a quilt, but I do not know if anyone ever quilted or it was just there.
As in most homes of that era, the plumbing consisted of a privvy out back and a pump by the back door and usually one in the kitchen. This was the other thing that amazed me about the family dynamic. There were several wash tubs located in the kitchen. They were there to hold the dirty dishes. On Saturday, they heated water and washed all the dishes. It was a bee hive of activity on that day as all the women folk were there and working feverishly to get the chore done. When the dishes were all washed, dried, and put away it was time to heat the water and wash the clothes. Saturdays were definitely work days at the Smith house! Mr. Smith stayed in his chair by the window looking out at the back yard. The dog stayed by him so it did not get stepped on by the scurrying women. I did not go over there on Saturday.
Sunday I was expected to attend church. Mom and dad would come for a visit about once a month. They brought the 3 younger girls. This was always special to me. Dinner would be on the table when I got home. It was always a feast and always the same fare. Great grandma fried chicken and the rest of the meal materialized around that. You know the comfort food thing? Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, homemade dinner rolls, butter, jelly and pudding of some sort or another for dessert. Some times a cake or pie. Celery stuffed with peanut butter. Pickled beets and sweet pickles. The poor table would be groaning from all the food. Never went hungry at Sunday dinner.
As I recall we never ate after the sun went down. Dishes were washed and back in the cupboard in very short order. The men folk, which usually consisted of my father, sat in the rocking chair with his thumbs hooked together over his stomach. Grandma died in January of my freshman year. Aunt Mabel came from Coldwater and took great grandma back with her. I returned to Nickerson and the bosom of my family.
My father. As I recall, my father was a big man. His skin was very white and his hair had at one time been mostly red, but not a bright red. It was more like a reddish blonde with a tad of brown. He had freckles on his hands which were very white and not calloused at all. I don't remember his eyes. He had a big stomach and always wore overalls. He wore brown, high top shoes. Funny the things we remember from our childhood. I think he may have been English with a bit of Irish, but who knows.
I do not think he liked me very much. I know Mary was his favorite, but Mary was everyone's favorite. Mother kept all of us girl's hair very short, but Mary was allowed to let hers grow long. We were all so jealous! Dorothy was the baby. Donna and I were just there as middle children. Josephine ran away and got married very young. Jake forged his birth certificate to show his age as 17 when he was 15 and joined the Army. That made me the oldest of the youngest kids at home. I relished in that and was very bossy.
At night we played "kick the can" with the neighbor kids. That is a game of hide and go seek which entailed placing a can on the ground and the one who was "it" counted while everyone hid. Then the "it" person had to find each one and bring them back to "base". While the "it" person went to search for the remaining hidden, some one could sneak in and "kick the can" which freed the ones who were stuck in the "jail". Game sometimes went on for hours. In day time we had "clod " fights. This required a freshly plowed field. We usually chose small clods which had dried and threw them at each other. They usually crumbled on contact, but if they had been baking in the sun several days, they tended to be a little harder and left marks. As tempers flared, the clods got bigger and more then one tear was shed either from pain, frustration, or from an eye full of dirt! Brother Jake decided at one time to pull out his .22 rifle. Little shit! The game was over for the day and he was the winner for sure.
More about Plevna later, but now I have to go tend to the geese.
The family consisted of Mr. and Mrs. Smith and a whole bunch of girls. I can recall 5 for sure. I never saw a boy, so that may have been the family. There may have been a son some where but I do not recall. Mr. Smith had one blue eye and one brown eye. That was something I had never seen before and have not seen since. I see it occasionally in dogs, but never in a human. Of course, I do not actually seek the phenomenon out, so it may slip by me undetected.
As in most homes of that era, the plumbing consisted of a privvy out back and a pump by the back door and usually one in the kitchen. This was the other thing that amazed me about the family dynamic. There were several wash tubs located in the kitchen. They were there to hold the dirty dishes. On Saturday, they heated water and washed all the dishes. It was a bee hive of activity on that day as all the women folk were there and working feverishly to get the chore done. When the dishes were all washed, dried, and put away it was time to heat the water and wash the clothes. Saturdays were definitely work days at the Smith house! Mr. Smith stayed in his chair by the window looking out at the back yard. The dog stayed by him so it did not get stepped on by the scurrying women. I did not go over there on Saturday.
Sunday I was expected to attend church. Mom and dad would come for a visit about once a month. They brought the 3 younger girls. This was always special to me. Dinner would be on the table when I got home. It was always a feast and always the same fare. Great grandma fried chicken and the rest of the meal materialized around that. You know the comfort food thing? Mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, green beans, homemade dinner rolls, butter, jelly and pudding of some sort or another for dessert. Some times a cake or pie. Celery stuffed with peanut butter. Pickled beets and sweet pickles. The poor table would be groaning from all the food. Never went hungry at Sunday dinner.
As I recall we never ate after the sun went down. Dishes were washed and back in the cupboard in very short order. The men folk, which usually consisted of my father, sat in the rocking chair with his thumbs hooked together over his stomach. Grandma died in January of my freshman year. Aunt Mabel came from Coldwater and took great grandma back with her. I returned to Nickerson and the bosom of my family.
My father. As I recall, my father was a big man. His skin was very white and his hair had at one time been mostly red, but not a bright red. It was more like a reddish blonde with a tad of brown. He had freckles on his hands which were very white and not calloused at all. I don't remember his eyes. He had a big stomach and always wore overalls. He wore brown, high top shoes. Funny the things we remember from our childhood. I think he may have been English with a bit of Irish, but who knows.
I do not think he liked me very much. I know Mary was his favorite, but Mary was everyone's favorite. Mother kept all of us girl's hair very short, but Mary was allowed to let hers grow long. We were all so jealous! Dorothy was the baby. Donna and I were just there as middle children. Josephine ran away and got married very young. Jake forged his birth certificate to show his age as 17 when he was 15 and joined the Army. That made me the oldest of the youngest kids at home. I relished in that and was very bossy.
At night we played "kick the can" with the neighbor kids. That is a game of hide and go seek which entailed placing a can on the ground and the one who was "it" counted while everyone hid. Then the "it" person had to find each one and bring them back to "base". While the "it" person went to search for the remaining hidden, some one could sneak in and "kick the can" which freed the ones who were stuck in the "jail". Game sometimes went on for hours. In day time we had "clod " fights. This required a freshly plowed field. We usually chose small clods which had dried and threw them at each other. They usually crumbled on contact, but if they had been baking in the sun several days, they tended to be a little harder and left marks. As tempers flared, the clods got bigger and more then one tear was shed either from pain, frustration, or from an eye full of dirt! Brother Jake decided at one time to pull out his .22 rifle. Little shit! The game was over for the day and he was the winner for sure.
More about Plevna later, but now I have to go tend to the geese.
1 comment:
Loved reading the story aunt Lou. Can't wait to read more.
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