WHO IN THE WORLD IS PASTOR GREG??? (Part Three) Continuing my early childhood on my Grandaddys farm, I remember my dear Mom and the endless work she put forth to provide and raise us siblings. She would work from sunup, till sundown - weeding, hoeing, and tending the garden; washing, ringing, and hanging clothes on a line to dry in the sun; cleaning the house, and trying to keep up with us fighting, mischievous children (I deal with that subject later). My earliest memories of Mom was of her reading to me classics like See Spot Run, Dr. Suess, or The Adventures of Lassie and The Lone Ranger. Many times I remember her chasing away the shadow monsters that slithered through my window at night during a full and ominous moon. If it hadnt been for her valiant bravery I suppose I would have been swept away to who knows where, maybe Never, Never Land! Later on, as I matured into my teens, I discovered it was an old swing set and maple tree swaying in the wind that created those hideous shapes! Nevertheless, I remained afraid until I graduated high school! Mom kept us warm with plenty of hand-made quilts and plenty of black coal in the Warm Morning Stove. Ever so often through the long hours of the night, I could hear her shaking the lower grate to dump the ashes so she could toss another piece of that Virginia coal on the fire. Boy, that sure was warm heat! Mom and Dad were . . . well, Mom and Dad. They cared and provided for us the best they could and we never seemed to lack for anything. Plenty of home-grown food filled our bellies, a roof over our heads (though it leaked occasionally requiring the use of Moms pots and pans to catch the drip, drip, drips), and clothes on our backs. We were not rich by a long shot, but we didnt know that. Looking back I wouldnt change a thing. Mom used to can pickles, sauerkraut, and pickled beats in her endless list of canning abilities. She would take these huge crocks and ferment cabbage and such, right in our living quarters! Now I suppose if I were asked what I would not care to repeat in my childhood, it would undoubtedly be this production of sauerkraut. You country folks know exactly what Im talking about! The fumes and smell emanating from those earthing vessels would drive the Devil himself away! One things for certain, we had no trouble with Vampires when Mom did her yearly canning! lol Now on to better smelling subjects. I remember faintly my Mom washing clothes with an old time washboard and tub (the same tub I took many scrubbings in). Later, she got one of the grandest things to come along since the horse and buggy, the wringer washing machine. That thing could pinch your arm flat as a pancake plumb up to your shoulder blade and then some, and ladies, if you have ever used one of these high tech devices, you know you had better keep your hair bundled tightly in a top-knot! Believe me, those things were made to squeeze until the plug was pulled or the fuse blew out! The problem with that, the plug was ten feet away! lol Back in those wonder years, we had no indoor bathroom. I suppose it hadnt been invented yet in our neck of the woods. Rather, we had what was called an Out House, meaning; you had to go out in the middle of the night if you had to go. Believe you me, the winters back then were ten times worse than they are now, and the awful aspect of wading in two feet of snow when your legs were only about a foot and a half to make it to the outdoor latrine, was not on the top ten picks of ones bucket list! So Mom devised a solution to that seemly insolvable problem by potty training use boys with a literal pot, swiftly discarding it the next day. Now you may be laughing about now, but that was a wondrous invention back then (wonder if Mom ever got a patent on that?). Okay, thats enough for now about my early recollections of childhood. Stay tuned to this prayer page for more. I love you folks - Pastor Greg.
Posted on: Sun, 25 Jan 2015 05:29:29 +0000
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