Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Hard Times No. 6 - February 27, 2014

As published in the White River Current - Thursday February 27, 2014 Two very talented ladies, Susan and Linda, both have columns that appear in the Current on alternate weeks with the “Ramblings” and “Musing” Columns. I hope that all you readers are enjoying these well-written bits of information as much as I. In her column, Nature Journal, Linda keeps us informed on the best times to plant and to go fishing and about the different stages of the moon and planetary revolutions and many other useful and interesting facts. For instance, in the issue that appeared last week, her brief essay on the demise of the habitat and the decline of the Monarch butterfly has me all stirred up wanting to start planting milkweed. I’m serious. I’m looking for seed catalogs now. Pass some on to me if you have any extras. Susan has been writing the “Not So Long Ago” column for a long time. Her writings are, for the most part, about area historical events that occurred several decades ago such as the building of the Norfork dam, with an occasional aside, such as last week’s article concerning a letter she had received from a former resident. Don’t take me wrong; she tied the letter in with other information about the dam and also about the city and former Norfork residents. I do this a lot and people say that I am rambling, but I wouldn’t go quite that far with Susan, whose writings I thoroughly enjoy. I was, however, amused when she promised to end her essay on Norfork dam with her next issue. Following Susan’s example, today I am ending my series on Life in the Rock House on Red Lane. In case you aren’t a local, Red Lane is a Calico Rock city street that received its name from the color of the loamy soil that provided the roadbed of what was once a deep-rutted wagon trail. As previously noted, I lived with my family in the Rock House during my “formative years” from age five until age twelve, during depression years and war years, in the “good old days” but also “hard times” years. The Hudson boys, Charles and Dean, were great buddies and we were together a lot. They used to fight a lot about whose time it was to draw water from their deep well. In order to bring peace, I would volunteer to draw the water. I didn’t realize until years later that I had been duped, that the fighting was a put-on to get me to do their chores for them. I guess I was an easy mark, still am. We also discovered that we could go all the way around their house without touching the ground. We did this by working our way along tree limbs, across the chicken house and barn until we completed the circle, then we would go around again. The first night that I spent away from home was at the Hudson house with Charles and Dean. I recall the skillet of fried potatoes that their mom had prepared for the family and guest. The potatoes were piled into the pan to about two inches above the rim and a lid was laid on the top. Sometime after supper three tired youngsters retired to the pallet on the front porch where they laughed and talked for a while before settling down for a night’s sleep. After it got quiet, all at once I started missing my mom and dad. I finally gave up and went inside to find Mrs. Bessie. She was just finishing washing up the supper dishes. After she determined that I wanted to go home, she went over to the wall telephone, gave the crank four turns, gave my dad the news and he drove up the hill to pick me up. I got a lot of kidding about that incident. Just one experience that I had while growing up. While I still have a little space left for this week’s offering, I want to note that this issue marks a milestone in Reed’s Ramblings; it is No. 50. I can’t imagine that I have held on for almost two years in what was intended to be a one-time shot. I realize that many of you readers are out in the dark about some of the people that I write about. Just use your imagination. I know the end is coming before long, but I still have a few things to say. Thanks for all your generous comments. They keep me going. Bye for now.

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