Rough morning start to a day livin on the farm
Posted: Sun May 12, 2013 7:23 pm
Available social services for older folks were limited for rural folks in my area of the Appalachians when I was growing up in the early '50's . Many were too proud to take what government dole that was obtainable . Older people , usually widowed older women , with a modest stipend , or no income at all , that couldn't sustain themselves on their own were taken in by a member of the community . They did what they could to help out for room and board and , often times ,care to the grave . It's what we did as a village .
This is how Mrs.Moffat came to live with us in our shotgun modest log home .
I was 9 and my Momma had just had a difficult delivery of my baby sister and was unable to do for herself , let alone Sis , Daddy , and me . Sis was 3 months early . We lived on the farm in a 6 room , 2 story , shake roofed log house heated by 3 coal stoves and a wood cook stove . 3 paths . 1 to the spring , 1 to the outhouse and the barns , and one to the coal/wood shed . Morning routine was pretty cut and dried in winter .
Daddy got up and rattled down the coal firs that had been banked for the night and stoked them up to warm up the house enough to be tolerable . It got so cold during the night that we kept a hammer by the slop jar in the upstairs bedrooms to break ice so you wouldn't splatter urine on the floor if you had to go during the night . Stoking the fires used up the last of the coal stocked in for the night . Daddy would heat a quick cup of coffee on the wood stove and smoke a couple more Lucky Strikes before he headed out to start the morning farm chores . My first job of a morning was to get out all the coal ashes and start refilling buckets to maintain the house for the day while he and I were gone to work/school . That was 5 coal scuttles of ashes out to the ash pile and 10 scuttles of coal carried back to the house .
When the house got a little less frigid Mrs. Moffat would dress and come to the kitchen to start breakfast . Slow moving , squatty bodied old woman that wore heavy full length black dresses over a gazillion petticoats and pantaloons .
By that time I would be off to do my part of the barn chores : feed the draft horses that Daddy had already watered before he went on to feed the main cow herd and clean the manure they had left behind them and go on to feed the chickens in the coop and gather the eggs . That's where things started to go downhill .
One of those 1600 # Belgians was cranky and swatted me with a hind foot . Bounced me off the barn wall and back into a pile of horse shit . I took some time to give that sombitch an attitude adjustment with a #4 Ames scoop shovel before I finished that job .
I already had a piss poor attitude when I walked through the chicken coop door . Daddy's favorite Arkansas Traveler fightin chicken had escaped his cage during the night and didn't want anyone interfering with his having his way with the ladies .
Hit me in the chest with both spurs ! How much does a 9 year old gotta take ? Armed him up and tried to come up with a plan . Couldn't kill the bastard without Daddy beatin be half to death . If I let him go he's gonna attack me again . Lightbulb went off in my head .
Ran over to the one hole outhouse , lifted the lid , chunked that nasty bastard down the hole and slammed the lid ! Case closed .
Gathered the eggs and took them back to the house for Mrs. M . And she added to the problem : "I need more firewood ."
Daddy and I have a solid morning routine worked out . We get our morning chores completed and have our morning 'constitutional' at the outhouse before we go in for breakfast and off to work/school and Mrs .M can take her leisurly time when she camps in that little shack . We both know if she gets there first we are going to be squatting behind a bush while she takes her own sloooww time if we expect to be where we need to be on time .
That was the case that day . We were both off schedule and arrived at the outhouse just in time to watch that slow old lady begin her morning routine in her slow , methodical manner .
With a smirk at us she backed up and used her ample body to block the outhouse door . She meticulously gathered all those skirts and petticoats above her ample rump and backed up to the seat . She was sliding her bloomers to her ankles and reaching back to lift the lid as the door closed in front of her . Daddy and I looked at each other in consternation . We lost this round ............
And then that outhouse EXPLODED ! That fat , slow old woman tore the door off that outhouse in a leap that would have outdone a young antelope ! Skirts and petticoats still clasped in her arms and her bloomers around her ankles . AND A HIGHLY PISSED OFF SHIT COVERED ARKANSAS TRAVELER FIGHTING ROOSTER STUCK TO HER ASS DOING HIS BEST RODEO RIDE EVER ! He spurred her in that fat ass with every jump she made . He got WAY past the 8 second whistle
And then I kinda lost focus of the situation . Daddy looked at me and I looked at him and we started laughing . And then Daddy realized that his role was still that of 'daddy' and he reached for the buckle of his belt .
And then I started crying even before he started strappin me .
My Daddy will be 86 years old this September . To this day he has never told me if that strappin was on account of that old woman or what I did to his prize fightin rooster .
'Til the day she died , that old woman never cared much for me after that .
This is how Mrs.Moffat came to live with us in our shotgun modest log home .
I was 9 and my Momma had just had a difficult delivery of my baby sister and was unable to do for herself , let alone Sis , Daddy , and me . Sis was 3 months early . We lived on the farm in a 6 room , 2 story , shake roofed log house heated by 3 coal stoves and a wood cook stove . 3 paths . 1 to the spring , 1 to the outhouse and the barns , and one to the coal/wood shed . Morning routine was pretty cut and dried in winter .
Daddy got up and rattled down the coal firs that had been banked for the night and stoked them up to warm up the house enough to be tolerable . It got so cold during the night that we kept a hammer by the slop jar in the upstairs bedrooms to break ice so you wouldn't splatter urine on the floor if you had to go during the night . Stoking the fires used up the last of the coal stocked in for the night . Daddy would heat a quick cup of coffee on the wood stove and smoke a couple more Lucky Strikes before he headed out to start the morning farm chores . My first job of a morning was to get out all the coal ashes and start refilling buckets to maintain the house for the day while he and I were gone to work/school . That was 5 coal scuttles of ashes out to the ash pile and 10 scuttles of coal carried back to the house .
When the house got a little less frigid Mrs. Moffat would dress and come to the kitchen to start breakfast . Slow moving , squatty bodied old woman that wore heavy full length black dresses over a gazillion petticoats and pantaloons .
By that time I would be off to do my part of the barn chores : feed the draft horses that Daddy had already watered before he went on to feed the main cow herd and clean the manure they had left behind them and go on to feed the chickens in the coop and gather the eggs . That's where things started to go downhill .
One of those 1600 # Belgians was cranky and swatted me with a hind foot . Bounced me off the barn wall and back into a pile of horse shit . I took some time to give that sombitch an attitude adjustment with a #4 Ames scoop shovel before I finished that job .
I already had a piss poor attitude when I walked through the chicken coop door . Daddy's favorite Arkansas Traveler fightin chicken had escaped his cage during the night and didn't want anyone interfering with his having his way with the ladies .
Hit me in the chest with both spurs ! How much does a 9 year old gotta take ? Armed him up and tried to come up with a plan . Couldn't kill the bastard without Daddy beatin be half to death . If I let him go he's gonna attack me again . Lightbulb went off in my head .
Ran over to the one hole outhouse , lifted the lid , chunked that nasty bastard down the hole and slammed the lid ! Case closed .
Gathered the eggs and took them back to the house for Mrs. M . And she added to the problem : "I need more firewood ."
Daddy and I have a solid morning routine worked out . We get our morning chores completed and have our morning 'constitutional' at the outhouse before we go in for breakfast and off to work/school and Mrs .M can take her leisurly time when she camps in that little shack . We both know if she gets there first we are going to be squatting behind a bush while she takes her own sloooww time if we expect to be where we need to be on time .
That was the case that day . We were both off schedule and arrived at the outhouse just in time to watch that slow old lady begin her morning routine in her slow , methodical manner .
With a smirk at us she backed up and used her ample body to block the outhouse door . She meticulously gathered all those skirts and petticoats above her ample rump and backed up to the seat . She was sliding her bloomers to her ankles and reaching back to lift the lid as the door closed in front of her . Daddy and I looked at each other in consternation . We lost this round ............
And then that outhouse EXPLODED ! That fat , slow old woman tore the door off that outhouse in a leap that would have outdone a young antelope ! Skirts and petticoats still clasped in her arms and her bloomers around her ankles . AND A HIGHLY PISSED OFF SHIT COVERED ARKANSAS TRAVELER FIGHTING ROOSTER STUCK TO HER ASS DOING HIS BEST RODEO RIDE EVER ! He spurred her in that fat ass with every jump she made . He got WAY past the 8 second whistle
And then I kinda lost focus of the situation . Daddy looked at me and I looked at him and we started laughing . And then Daddy realized that his role was still that of 'daddy' and he reached for the buckle of his belt .
And then I started crying even before he started strappin me .
My Daddy will be 86 years old this September . To this day he has never told me if that strappin was on account of that old woman or what I did to his prize fightin rooster .
'Til the day she died , that old woman never cared much for me after that .
