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Hog's Heaven

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Tue Jan 23, 2007 12:12 am

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Mom always started her own plants from seed. I was probably the most interested in helping her with them and helping in the flower garden. We were all required to help in the vegetable garden. When I was really small I don't remember the process of seed starting. I know we had a wash shed with a boat shed attatched to it. She started the seeds under the boat shed and if it were going to freeze we brought them into the wash shed. Then Daddy built us a lean-to greenhouse off of the side of the boat shed, a big one too. Mom and I were in hog's heaven, no more having to put the seeds out in the sun during the day, bring them into the washshed if it were going to rain or freeze, we had our own greenhouse. Mom saved everything to start seeds in, cardboard eggcartons, which I still use, tin cans with holes punched in the bottom for drainage, waxed milk cartons, cut longways, any and everything that would safely hold a seed to germinate. We had flowers everywhere and vegetables too of course. I never tasted canned vegetables until I started school. I can remember they didn't taste the same as our veggies at home. That's just one more thing I love my parents for, instilling the love of growing things into me. Of course, as a teenager I saw it more as a punishment then love, but I know different now. Even though Dad is now gone, I am so thankful for this knowledge and the 2 people who taught it to me.

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The Line

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Sat Jan 20, 2007 2:35 pm

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When we were growing up the line was our favorite playground. It was nothing more than a deep ditch with trees and shrubs left to grow up which divided the cattle pastures. I can never imagine letting my kids play in a place like that, but we lived there. Boring you say, not in the least. Everyday was an adventure. Our favorite way to pass the time was swinging on vines. We were Tarzans and Janes, just did't have a Cheetah. You had to find a strong sturdy vine and cut it at the base of the tree. Of course, one of us always had to be the guinea pig to see if it would hold us. Then you would grab hold and propel yourself off the ditch bank and wrap your legs around the vine. If you were lucky the vine held and you didn't go tumbling into the blackberry brambles which filled the ditch. Later we got very creative and pinched some of Dad's nails and a hammer and nailed a board across the vine where you could stradle it and someone would push you. My sister and I decided to swing from the vine together, one of us on each side of the cross piece. It broke halfway across the ditch and we couldn't keep our grip and down we went. By the time we climbed out of the ditch we were all scratched up and itchy. We were just lucky there wasn't a snake down there. There was also a type of tree which had these little nubby projections growing off of it kinda in layers. We would break those off the tree and spend hours building pretend villages and forts and play with my brother's army men in them. We were only allowed to go the the first line when we were little, but when we got older we could venture across the pasture to the second line. For some unknown reason we didn't find it nearly exciting as we thought it would be and rarely ventured back. I think the boys went just to get away from the girls. I will have to post more line adventures later, time to come back to reality and get ready for work.

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Cookie Making Parties

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Sun Dec 17, 2006 1:56 am

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Every year when my sisters and I were growing up Mom would let us invite friends and we would have a cookie making party. She would make huge bowls of sugar cookie dough, we would roll it out and make cut out cookies. She had every cookie cutter shape imaginable, stars, christmas trees, angels, wreaths, different ornament shapes, like teardrops and just circles, anything to do with Christmas. Of course there was the powdered sugar icing tinted with food coloring to ice them with. Then came the decorations, silver candy beads, tiny, tiny multi-color candy beads, green and red colored sugar, and tiny candy snowflakes. She also made cookie press cookies, I know that's not the right name for them, I think it is Spritz cookies. Of course we got to use the cookie press and make the different designs. We all had such a good time, and the friends got to take home loads of cookies. Gosh, life sure seemed a lot simplier then.

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The Animals Christmas Eve

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Tue Dec 12, 2006 12:32 am

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I am putting this under Childhood Memories, not because it is one of mine as a child, but because it is one I have of my girls growing up. I love this poem, it is in the form of a Little Golden Book. Hope y'all enjoy it as much as I and my family have:

In the barn on Christmas Eve,
After all the people leave,
The animals, in voices low
Remember Christmas long ago

One small hen, upon her nest,
Softly clucks to all the rest:
"Little chicks, come, gather near.
A wondrous story you will hear."

Two white doves, on rafters high,
Coo a quiet lullaby:
"Long ago in manger hay,
The little baby Jesus lay.

Three wise men from far away
Came to visit him one day,
For he was born," the doves recall,
"To be the greatest king of all!"


Four brown horses in their stalls,
Snug within the stable walls,
Tell of his birth: "'Twas long foretold
By chosen men in days of old."

Five gray donkeys speak with pride,
Remembering one who gave a ride:
"Our brother donkey went with them
From Nazareth to Bethlehem."

Six spotted calves now nibble hay
Like that on which the baby lay.
"They put him in a manger bed
So he could rest his sleepy head."

Seven goats, all black and white,
Describe the sky that holy night:
"A star appeared at early morn
To mark the place where he was born."

Eight nestling kitten lick their fur.
They nod their heads and softly purr.
"And he was wrapped in swaddling clothes
To keep him warm from head to toes."

Nine wooly sheep down from the hill,
On Christmas Eve remember still:
"Shepherds heard the angels sing
Praises to the newborn king."

Ten soft lambs say Jesus' name.
"He was the Lamb of God who came.
He was the greatest gift of love
Sent from his Father, God, above."

Eleven puppies listen well,
In hopes that they, in turn, can tell
The Christmas story another year
For all the animals to hear

Twelve chimes ring out from far away-
The lovely bells of Christmas Day.
And every beast bows low its head
For one small babe in a manger bed.

Gale Wiersum

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Christmas Past Memories

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Mon Dec 04, 2006 12:43 am

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I can remember the excitement of those childhood Christmases. Dad getting the two older boys together to go cut the tree. We always had a cedar tree. It would always be too big and Dad would have to top it out. While they were gone we would get the decorations down. Some were handpainted ornaments from Germany that Dad had sent back home during WWII, some were homemade, and of course there were a lot of the shiny glass balls, and plastic glow in the dark icicles and snowflakes. We would have the lights all sorted out, not the tiny little lights they have now, but the big fat ones. After the tree was finally up Dad would string the lights, then it was our turn. He would hold us up to put ornaments on the top of the tree when we were little. I wonder if he missed doing that when we got to big for it. The tree would be so beautiful when it was finally finished. I would sit for hours staring at it and I still like to do that. Then is would be time to start dreaming about what we would get that year. No making lists, no demanding what we wanted, it was a surprise every year. And we only got one thing apiece. I guess my all time favorite present was the treasure chest. I got the one for girls and my little brother got the one for boys. It had colors and coloring books, paper dolls, games, books to read and small toys to play with. It was really cool because it was like getting a ton of presents at once. We didn't know it until years later, but we bought our own Christmas presents. We picked pecans in the cow pastures on halves with the owner. The man, Mr. Bobby Wince, who bought them would come around and weigh them and give Dad half the money and bring the other half to the owner of the pastures. When I was older and didn't believe in Santa anymore I asked Mom how could they afford to get Christmas for six kids every year, and that was when she told me it was the pecan money that bought them. I wish things could be so simple today.

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"CooCoo"

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 2:17 pm

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My Grandmother on my Father's side was pure Cajun French. She was from back Vacherie and so was my Grandfather. Darrow, where we lived, was about 30 miles from Vacherie. One of her sisters had a son named "CooCoo", that's all we ever knew him as. If my life depended on it I could not tell you his real name, or why he was called "CooCoo". Well "CooCoo" would come to visit Grandma several times a year, he was obviously sane enough to get a drivers liscense. After we got telephone service in Darrow, Grandma was always forewarned of "CooCoo's" visits. What they did before the telephone I do not know. We were always told of these coming visits and were given a very stern warning, dished out in a very heavy French accent, "Now Sharon, whaever ya do, don' git in the ca(car) wit CooCoo. He's gon axe ya too go git icecream at "Nonc" (uncle) Robert's store, {pronounced row bears}, but don' git in da ca wit CooCoo." I was not particularly afraid of CooCoo, until one day when I was at Grandmas when he showed up. The call must have come late because he was pulling in the driveway before I had a chance to get home. She made me stay right in her sight, but I finally had to leave for home, which was nextdoor, but with a little distance between us. Sure enough, I was halfway home, on the other side of the ditch, when a car came up behind me and stopped. I turned around and there was "CooCoo" and the exact words out of his mouth were, "Sharon, git in the ca, and we will go git icecream at Nonc Robert's." All I can remember was running as fast as I can and "CooCoo" laughing his head off. I always made sure I was not at Grandma's when "CooCoo" came to visit again.

Last edited: Mon Nov 27, 2006 2:18 pm

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The Long Pond

Category: Childhood Memories | Posted: Sun Nov 19, 2006 3:26 am

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I grew up on the Mississippi River in a very small rural town named Darrow, Louisiana. We lived on two and a half acres and Dad had a real mini farm going on. We had chickens, rabbits, hogs, and he raised beagle dogs to train and sell. Our favorite thing to do was to go on picnics at the Long Pond. The pond was located about 5 miles from our house and was behind the levee. Sometimes Dad would cook a jambalaya over an open fire and sometimes Mom would get up at four in the morning and fry chicken and all the fixings to go with it. We always had friends along and always fished. We would run to the top of the levee and roll down to the bottom, making sure there were no cowpies or other dangers in the path. Down a small road that led to the river was a sandbar. When we were older we were allowed to go there and swim. I can remember the river shrimp pinching our toes, more of a tickle than a pinch. I can still smell the smells and feel the river breeze on my face. I can remember the scary thrill of going down the levee at an angle in the car, always afraid we would tip over. But what I can't do is ever go back to the Long Pond, nor could I take my kids there when they were growing up so they could experience the things that I did. The Long Pond no longer exist as I knew it. Someone, in the name of progress, saw fit to dredge it out to the river and make a dry dock for tug boat repair. We were the last generation of children to enjoy all of lifes simple wonders at the Long Pond.

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