Back in the day when life was laid back and summer days were long and winter nights were cold, a visitor was a rarity. Cars were few and far between and if a car pulled on to our road leading up to the Stroh place we knew we were going to have company and they probably would spend the night. I remember one such visit, but I do not remember who it was. Only thing I am sure of was that it was Aunt somebody and Uncle somebody.
Apparently mother had received some sort of message either through the mail or a phone call from somebody and the visit was expected. Momma would spend days cleaning the house in preparation for the big day. I do recall the time Uncle Ode came to visit. What I remember is that he was tall and smoked a pipe and it smelled so very good. He asked it I would like a puff and of course I said yes. Momma said "NO" but Uncle Ode stuck the stem in my mouth and told me to take a deep suck on it. Oh, my good God in heaven, I damn near choked to death! Of course Uncle thought it funny but mother did not!
When Uncle Ode came he only stayed a few hours, but I recall one visit from Aunt and Uncle Somebody. They had a new shiny black car. I might note that back then there were two colors for a car, black or blacker. Later they would add a dung green, and then brown. I was allowed to be lifted into the car and I could set there and look around, but do not get it dirty! I wallowed in dirt all day long so I had to be "dusted off" before I was allowed to set on the pristine seat!
Starting the car entailed poking a "crank" into the front of the car under the radiator and turning it firmly until the engine "caught". Then the driver would engage the clutch, engage the transmission and when he released the clutch the car would move forward and they would disappear in a cloud of dust! Cars were few and far between in our little world, but we liked to see them. Jake and I used to set under the bridge and hope one would pass over us, but not break the bridge down so as to kill us!
Jake always wore overalls and us girls always wore a dress. I recall in high school one day a year was designated as "tacky" day. We could wear jeans that day, but I did not have any. When school started momma made each of us girls dresses and of course I inherited the ones Josephine grew out of and passed mine down to Donna. When clothes were "worn completely out" they were then taken apart and went for another use. The worn parts were rags for cleaning. The still good parts were cut into one inch strips and a slit cut in each end. These were then lace together and rolled into a ball. When mother had enough balls she took them to the "weaver lady" who wove them into a rug. Nothing was ever disposed of until it was completely used up. We even had a "button jar."
I know that sometimes when I write on here it seems that my childhood was very sad, but it was not! Back in those days it was different. We had an outhouse, but a lot of people did. Inside plumbing was a rarity and non-existent on Strong Street. Meals were mostly pots of soup or beans. We heated with a wood stove and cooked on one also. We played "Kick the Can" when we were lucky enough to find a can. Our quiet place was the cemetery behind the house. Momma made our soap with old save up lard that was first used for cooking and then strained and turned into "lye soap" with lye she made by dripping water through soft, gray wood ashes from the cook stove.
There is not a day that goes by that I do not thank God for sending me to the mother he sent me to live with. She was a pioneer. She was honest to a fault. She was dependable. Her heart was broken by me many times, but she never gave up on me and never once ever told me I was a disappointment, even when I knew I was.
So, fancy cars, running water, a cupboard full of food and a home that stays the same temperature all year long with the touch of a dial, are all taken for granted. My ancestors were pioneers and I thank God every day for them. And you know the best part of all of this? I see it reflected in everyone of my kids. They are all honest, dependable, God fearing little creatures that are always in touch with their momma!
And I am as proud of them as I can be! And there is a song that reflects all this. It goes like this;
Count your many blessings, name them one by one,
and it will surprise you what the Lord has done!click here
No comments:
Post a Comment