From NYC Single truck driver...to farmer "dad" with 5 kids.

justusnak

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A new member to the family.......

It was late spring....thunderstorms were rageing our little farm. The winds were strong enough that mom had us kids go to the cellar. Now, I have to explain this home a little to ya. It is a big 2 story home, with a large dirt floor cellar. The home was used at one time for funerals. In the front room, mom always called it the " company only living room" There was an indentation(sp) in the wall...where they would place the casket for viewings. Beautifull hard wood floors....big almost cieling to floor windows on the front. Mom swore the place was haunted. ( I will touch on this more later) The cellar had several ( maybe 4) little rooms, with big wooden doors that had windows about 6 inches square, and the windows had bars in them. Like jail calls. Us kids often would play cops and robbers down there, and lock each other up. Luckily the doors were barely operational, so we never had to worry about being "locked in" All along one wall, towards the ceiling, there was a crawl space. This area was about 2 ft tall, and several feet deep. My brothers favorite hideing place. (shivers) :/ I am thinking this was a type of "cold storage" You could enter the basement from the kitchen, or from the outside through 2 big metal doors laying almost flat on the ground. Sorta like the ones in Wizard of Oz.
OK, so, the storm...mom had us all in the cellar with candles. The storm raged outside. Dad of course was sitting at the top of the stairs, in the kitchen. He would NEVER come to the cellar. His fear of "ghosts" kept him out. Lightening struck a large tree in the back yard..and everyone screamed. ( includeing dad) :lol: He dissapeared from the stairs for a few minutes only to come back to report that the tree had fallen on the little barn in the back yard..and caved in the roof. This of course was near the horse pasture, and it spooked the pony and Mindy...they bolted and were " on thier way south" as dad put it. The storm finally passed, and we all went outside to see all of the damage. Jeff, being the most adventurous one, was the first in the little barn. Once inside, he discovered a momma raccoon dead on the floor. We knew she lived in there, and had a litter of kits, so he started looking for them. Once he found them, he yelled for mom to come...and the dug the 5 kits from damaged "nest" They were soaking wet...and cold, and looked to have just had thier eyes open. Mom brought them all inside..and started to heat milk ( fresh raw) for them...and lit the oven and placed them on the opened door in a box to warm them. We all took turns feeding them for a few days, but, unfortunately, only one survived. He grew into a big healthy coon...and we named him Shorty because he was the runt of the litter. Shorty loved to romp outside with our poodle, Snapper. They would chase each other..and sometimes Shorty would jump on Snappers back. Snapper would run like the devil was after him, trying to dislodge that onry coon. Us kids would sneak in and get hair nets from moms room, and take them to the creek to catch crawdads and small fish for shorty. We would put them in a bucket on the porch and just roll in laughter watching him catch, wash, and eat them. Shorty favorite time of the day was dinner time. OUR dinner time. Mom would be standing at the stove, trying to cook, with a coon hanging on her hip...reaching out with his little paw, trying to grab food from the stove or counter. Mom of course would tire of this and throw shorty outside. Now coons are extremly smart animals...he would climb the gutter next to us girls bedroom window...and scratch on the sill. Of course we would let him back inside..and he scampered down the stairs, back to moms hip. She threw him out again...and again, he climbed the gutter. This happened a few times before mom yelled up the stairs...WHO keeps letting shorty back inside. :lol: She warned us to NOT let him back in, untill after dinner was over.
We had to go to my grandparents one weekend, and of couse we could not bring the coon. Grandma and grandpa had a farm, raised chickens, and shorty was NOT welcome. So, before we left, mom placed a large bowl of dog food and water out for him and Snapper....and tried to convince my dad they would be fine. After all, it was only 2 days. The whole time...dad almost worried himself sick over that coon. He continuously said..." Poor shorty, I bet he thinks we abandoned him", or " I bet he is sitting there in the window, just looking out, waiting for us to come home" We had to cut our trip a little short, because dad was so worried. Once we got home, dad of course was the first one in the door. All I heard was... " That DANGED COON! Where is he!??" " Im gonna kill that danged coon" We all ran to the door to see why dad would be so upset with " poor Shorty" Well, once inside..we saw..Shorty had been exploreing the kitchen. With his nimble little hands, he was able to open every canister mom had on the counter. He must have loved flour, because he had it dumped on the counter and floor, and there were little foot prints all over the house.. He had the fridge door open..and food drug out. I guess he was not impressed with the bowl of dog food. LOL With dad screaming and hollering...shorty quickly made it out the front door, and into the tree. He knew better than to come down. We were unpacking the car, as my brother Jeff went to his room to check his turtle. Imagine his horror, to find his pet turtle...with no head. Shorty found it while we were gone..and well...coons eat turtles. :/ We had several great summers with Shorty....but sadly, he was chaseing Snapper one day, and they ran to cross the road, and was hit by a car. Snapper was missed...but shorty didnt survive. We burried him under his favorite apple tree...and I had never seen a grown man cry before this time. My dad cried like a baby. He really loved that "danged" coon. It was wierd...his little grave never grew weeds...and the first winter...snow melted when it hit his little grave. There would be snow all around it, but not on top. Dad had made a headstone...carved a little coon in it, and had his name. It took dad a while to get over the loss of that coon. He would sit on the porch the first few days after we burried him, and just stare at his little grave. Luckily...time heals all wounds.
 

rebecca100

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My dad was the same way he griped constanly about that darn cat of his, but he wouldn't get rid of him for anything. It's funny how men get attached. When dad passed the cat was 16 years old quit eating and disappeared. Neighbors found him later almost dead in their yard. they took care of him and still have him. I thought it would be best since I have small kids and I don't think he would be happy with us. Two of my kids never knew my mom and the smallest one will not remember my dad when she is older. He passed away this June with a preforated ulcer. My mom passed in 05 with heart failure.
 

Blue Skys

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What great stories, and you tell them so well!!!
 

justusnak

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What was that??

So, as I stated in an earlier post...this house was haunted. Mom knew from the time we moved in...there were " others" there. In the front room, where they at one time had funerals...mom had a beautifull lamp. This room was off limits to us kids, unless we had guests, and were invited in. Usually the only guests we had were either family, or Reverand Runion. Every morning, mom would go into that room, and notice the lamp was turned around. She would turn it back around, look around and say, " THIS is how I want it" Dad always laughed at her, accuseing us kids of messing with it. Mom knew otherwise. Well, in mom and dads room, there was a picture when we moved in. This was an old black and white photo of a woman, looked to be from the 1920's. Dad was going to toss it, but mom insisted "she belonged in the house" One night, we were all awakened to a blood curling scream....coming from my dad. All of us kids came running down the stairs, to see dad sitting on the edge of the bed, visibly shaken. He claimed he was awaken by someone whispering in his ear, and when he opened his eyes, the woman in the picture was standing by the bed, beckoning him to follow her. Of course when he screamed, she was gone. Mom assured us kids everything was OK, and sent us back to bed. All 5 of us kids slept in one room that night...whispering about dads " nightmare" and makeing up ghost stories about how she was going to lead dad to a hidden body....or to H E double toothpicks. :lol: The next morning, dad insisted mom remove the picture from thier bedroom...so mom placed it in the front living room. Dad insisted the house was haunted, and that this "woman" was after him. Mom called Reverand Runion to come out, and give the house a blessing. This made dad feel much better, so we got to stay there for a few more years.
The front living room had beautifull wooden floors. Mom was bound and determined to keep them in tip top shape...so once a month..she would have us kids help her empty the furniture out to the front yard...she would sweep, and mop the floor, useing amonia to get rid of the wax...then have us kids come in with socks on...she would put down the floor wax, and us kids would slip and slide all over that floor, buffing the wax. Altho it was "work" we had a blast, and couldnt waite for that day every month, so we could " skate in the house" Mom would go in after us, and she would do the egdes on her hands and knees...I will never forget watching her buff that floor. She really loved that room. Everything in that room was "pretty" The sofa had virtually been untouched by dirty little kids hands..and the doilies on the tables were so dainty they looked like they might fall apart if touched wrong. Mom always had a small candy dish on the coffee table full of sweets. We knew better than to go in and take any, those were for "company" :rolleyes:
The front of the house had a large wooden porch, with wide steps leading to the front door. The boards had seen better days, so dad decided to fix the "deathtrap" He called his brother, Uncle Joe, to come help with the project. Now, dads idea of "fixing" was different than moms. She wanted to replace the wood....dad wanted to frame it in, and fill it with gravel, then top it with concrete. He said this way it would last a lifetime.So, dad and uncle joe proceeded to tear out the front porch. This was where King slept on hot summer days....so he was not happy. He would sit there and howl every time they removed boards. Mom made us kids take King on an adventure...to the woods, while they worked. It took dad and uncle Joe a few days to tear out the old porch, and then they started hauling in gravel. Truckload after truckload....of gravel. The finally finished getting the gravel in, and we could once more use the front door. Dad promised mom he would pour concrete, "later"
My sister drove by the old farm house, 20+ years later, and the porch still stood....graveled!! :lol: I am sure whoever bought the old farm house, scratched thier heads and wondered "just what was they thinking" :lol:
 

justusnak

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Jeff and his pony.....

Jeff loved his pony, Dickie, more than I think anything else. He was always an animal lover...but this pony had a special place for him. I guess because he "earned" him. For the most part he wouldn't let anyone else ride him. :/ I didn't mind for the most part because Dickie was a Shetland pony, and very mean spirited. (stallion) Jeff could get that pony to do almost anything he wanted...most of the time. Dickie would get a bee in his bonnett on occasion, and do what HE wanted to. The first winter with Dickie...it had gotten pretty cold, and Jeff was so worried about his little pony, he tried to sleep in the shed with him. Mom of course had to drag Jeff inside, assureing him the pony would be OK. The next morning, when Jeff went out to check on him......Dickie had icicles hanging from his nose and whiskers. He bawled to mom, and begged her to let Dickie sleep in his room untill spring. :lol: Of course, Dickie was fine..but to a young boy..he just knew Dickie would freeze to death out there. So, mom got a heat lamp, and put it in the shed for Dickie and Mindy. :rolleyes: Looking back now, its a thousand wonders that little shed didnt burn down!
I remember one day, Jeff had taken Dickie out for a run...we were all playing in the yard, when a stranger pulled in the drive. I ran to get mom, and this man walks up to mom and asked if she had a young boy about 10 or so, who is out rideing a pony? Of course, it was Jeff, and when mom said yes..is he OK?? This guy said...Oh, the boy is fine...but you might want to go save the pony! Mom had to be scared to death, and asked him where were they, whats going on?? They guy said.." I was driveing past them, when the pony threw the boy off....I stopped to make sure the boy was OK, that kid grabbed the pony by the reigns...drew him up tight, and punched that pony in the nose!" About that time, here comes Jeff on Dickie....walking slowly...Dickie with a bloody nose. :lol: Now, I know it seems mean...but Dickie NEVER threw Jeff off again, after that day. I guess you could say..they had an understanding between them...you dont throw me off, I wont punch you in the nose! :lol:
Jeff was the adventurer in our family...he always had "grand ideas" which ended up usually with someone getting hurt, or almost killed! He had a "grand idea" once....he told me and Becky to lay ou in the grassy pasture..and pick any scab we had, to make them bleed...this would draw the " chicken hawks" which we now know are buzzards. He would sit under the tree, and when the buzzards come, he would shoot one...but we had to lay perfectly still. Of course this didnt work, ( thanks goodness) Jeff and his grand ideas! :lol: He got us into trouble so often....but Becky and I still looked up to him..and followed his bidding.
One summer he got a 4 wheeler. He would make ramps, and we would jump that thing like evil kenievel(sp?) He told my brother Steven..." lay down and let me run you over, the tires are like balloons, it wont hurt!" Steven believed him!! When Jeff ran him over, we all thought he was dead. Us girls ran off into the woods, scared mom was going to "kill" jeff for "killing" steven. Steve was OK, just very sore, as was Jeff after mom was finished with him! :p She sold the 4 wheeler after that.
Becky and I didnt always need Jeff to get into "trouble" we seemed to find it pretty well on our own. One day we decided we "needed" a slide....so we got an old board from the barn, and placed it on a tree...I was nice, and let Becky go first. Dow she went...and IN went a splinter! She screamed so loud, I thought mom would have a heart attack!! When mom got to us, Becky was laying on the ground. My poor mother...how she survived us kids, I will never know. I tried to explain what happened through my own tears...and mom carried Becky to the house. She stripped her pants off, and saw the outcome..one very large hunk of wood, in Beckys bottom. Mom layed Becky on the table, and tried to remove the wood, with dad there helping. After what seemed like hours, mom decided she better take Becky to the ER. They had to cut that piece of wood from Beckys bottom...it was about 4 inches long, and almost straight in!! She was sore for days after. She had to stand at the dinner table...and lay on her belly to sleep, or watch tv at night. No more slides for us! :p
 

Farmfresh

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OUCH! That last part about the slide sent me squirming!

My hubby was kind of like your brother Jeff. At one point his mom looked out the window to see hubby shooting at his running brother with a bow and arrow! After the spankings she asked "What were you thinking?" Hubby's brother said, "He told me to run around because he wanted to try shooting a moving target!" :ep

Dear sweet children! :th
 

freemotion

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Yikes! The worst thing I remember doing was taking my horse to the lake and making her swim.... I would strip off her saddle and hide it in some bushes, then urge her into deeper and deeper water until she started leaping....then swimming. I would hold on tight to her mane and basically float above her, trying to stay over her so when she touched bottom again and started leaping, I would end up on her back and not under her legs.

I did not know how to swim. :ep

The other thing my parents didn't know was that I would ride alone miles into the woods and fields, where humans rarely went, and if I saw an apple tree, I would park that pony under the tree and stand on her back to pick the best apples.

Another :ep
 

Farmfresh

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Shame on you Free! Don't you know falling off of a swimming horse is a good way to die - whether or NOT you know how to swim!!

I was a pony butt stander as well.... (shame). I was usually after cherries or mulberries.
 
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