Sunday, October 30, 2011
I went back to visit my old homeplace today and oh what a wonderful sight. All of my memories came rushing back to me, much to my heart's delight.
There the old house still stood, although it looked as if it would fall. Memories still lingered everywhere I looked of a place so easy to recall.
In the yard there stands the old maple, it was always our favorite spot to be. We use to hide up in its branches and whisper "I bet they'll never find me".
The little branch of water is still running, oh how I remember it so well.We caught spring lizards in that little branch, in hopes we could take them somewhere to sell.
I couldn't believe my eyes, there the old barn stood, my daddy built it many years ago. The old cows made themselves at home there, how many in my mind I do not know.
There's the little apple tree still standing, oh my how good those apples used to be. I picked one from its branches, it tasted as good as they always did to me.
I went around to the back of the house and to my surprise there was the little spring. The many buckets of water we carried from it, I thought long ago it would have been a dried up spring.
I looked up and oh my what I did see, the old smokehouse where we hung our meat. In that old building we took many a bath and the wash tub was our seat.
I started to leave and found myself at the front door step, when an echo from the past surely did hit. I heard my mama's voice as she was saying ,"it's getting dark kids come on in you're gonna get snake bit".
And then as I walked back out the road I turned and looked back one more time. I heard the old house calling to me, to never ever leave it behind.
Susie Swanson Published, 2010
Today the old house is in a sad state of decay. I can't even walk around it let alone walk through the door. My dad and mom sold it many years ago. The roof has fallen in and shrubery has grown up around it so bad I can't even see it. But since it's in walking distance of my house I can still visit anytime.And like the song says......:They say you can't go home again", .....But I do all the time, in my mind is a picture and I'll never leave it behind..
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
He plowed in early spring
when fields were new and green
the smell of fresh turned sod
that old time plowing machine
In the middle of the summer
with the sweat dripping down
between each close knit row
big hoofprints hit the ground
Harvest time was busy
with pride he did feel
the bounty of his labors
that came from each big field
When the cold north wind blew
came a much deserved rest
that old mule sure worked hard
a plowing machine at its best
Saturday, October 22, 2011
There was once a way of life
many long years ago
most people could never imagine
or even believe it was so
Things were hard to come by
my daddy always said
like the food on their table
and a place to lay their head
Everybody had their own struggles
they all needed a friend
and that's where my grandpa
and the old gristmill came in
Electricity was never heard of
its power source, a big water wheel
the water running straight from the creek
it ground the corn and turned it into cornmeal
Some came by horse drawn wagons
with their corn on the back
some walked every step of the way
with the corn tied up in a big, toe sack
They came from far and near
as it was used for one thing
to provide bread for their family
from the corn they would bring
With determination on his side
my grandpa worked hard everyday
even on the sabbath
if someone came his way
Today I can't help but wonder
why people don't walk the same road
and do what grandpa did
and help carry some of the load
Grandpa and that old gristmill
surely did play a big part
in helping to calm the struggles
of a generation's hungry heart
Susie Swanson Published, 2010
I never had the priviledge or honor to meet my grandpa, on my dad's side of the family.
He died in 1937 at a young age. But in his short life, he left a legacy that is still talked about today. My dad filled his shoes for years, alongside his brother. They kept the old gristmill running because so many people depended on it for their bread and to feed their families. They changed it around somewhat, they switched the power source from water to gasoline which worked the same.
In the very place and exact spot where I live today is where that old gristmill was located. Sometimes, I can imagine hearing the roaring of the millstone and the grinding of the corn and I can see the people lined up waiting for their turn and I then can hear them saying Thanks alot Seb, we'll see you next week.
Hope you enjoy...Blessings, Susie
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
I see a little house
in the distance afar
a very, useful little place
with a welcome door ajar
Many wandering souls
have passed by its way
parked themselves there
many a night and day
It supplied entertainment
for the young and old
it even had a catalog
but no heat in the cold
A place to sneak away
lay your worries aside
smoke a puff or two
many secrets it could hide
To close in the summer
in the winter to far away
if one was so inclined
it was a good place to pray
The purpose of its existence
could raise quite a smell
the little outhouse sure was popular
oh the stories it could tell
Well.......I've wrote about everything else, I figured I might as well give this one a try.. (no offense folks). I hope you catch my stinky drift...just joking of course..lol..
Friday, October 14, 2011
This is an old time recipe that's so dear to me. It came from my mama's kitchen and it's called the Krauting Recipe.
Back in the days when I was young, the ingredients came together so easily and there was so much enjoyment and fun.
And for anybody that doesn't know what I'm talking about, they were never around when I helped mama and daddy make kraut.
Sour Kraut was the proper name and it had to be done just right. Mama made sure of that even if it took the whole day and all night.
She had her way and everybody had their own, but you can ask anybody around and they'll tell you it was the best they've ever known.
Mama went by the signs and the signs had to be good, or no krauting did she do if the cabbage all ruined and sometimes they would.
And the cabbage had to be chopped with a cream can, not just any can would do. It had to be a cream can and a new one too.
Daddy took on the job of removing the top of each can. Using a file to sharpen them, they were so sharp they'd cut the pan.
Now daddy may have been slow but those cans were sharp when he got through. They'd chop your fingers off before you even knew.
That's the way mama wanted them, as sharp as could be. The more fine the cabbage the better the kraut would be.
Early in the morning we'd cut the cabbage and get them ready from the patch. So we could get started early before it got so hot with a big batch.
We'd wash and clean the cabbage and cut all the bad leaves away. Then in a big dishpan, we'd cut the leaves small enough to chop and lay.
We each had a pan, three pans in all. And three cream cans started chopping with hands large and small.
And like I said before, daddy was alot more slow and mama would say "chop that cabbage Tom before it decides to stand up and grow".
But daddy always seem to get his pan done before we did but there were plenty of big cabbage leaves left in the bottom of the pan hid.
It was the funniest sight I ever did see to watch mama and daddy argue underneath that old shade tree.
Some people might say mama was just mean but she wasn't mean, she just wanted her kraut done the way she seen.
But finally daddy took all he could take. He threw down the cream can and said "do it yourself old woman and the whole batch you can make".
He took off back inside the house and although I was busting to laugh, I knew better and stayed quiet as a little mouse.
Then mama said "that man's slow as Christmas but he sure does like kraut". I hit the ground laughing, I'd held it as long as I could without a doubt.
When we both got through laughing we packed what we had in each jar and kept on chopping but we didn't get far.
Before daddy came back and started chopping again. He acted like nothing ever happened and picked up where he began.
Needless to say we got the kraut done before supper time and carried it to the smokehouse to work off in case it blew up if it was so inclined.
That kraut was always white as the snow on the ground. But it was suppose to be, after all it was mama's recipe the best kraut around.
I remember sitting at the supper table eating kraut one cold, winter's night, when daddy got a big piece of cabbage in his mouth when he took a bite.
Mama saw him when he took that bite and said "that's from the pan you chopped" and daddy kept chewing and chewing in spite.
Now my mama's recipe for making kraut may not be to some people's taste but one thing's for certain no ingredients will I waste.
And each year when I make my kraut, I keep these ingredients close beside me and the laughter too. That's what memories are about but oh how I miss mama's kraut.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
There's an old barn
sitting all silent and still
what a story it could tell
out there in that big, open field
Back when times were different
there were alot of things going on
to look at the old barn today
no one would never have known
It was very fond of the cows
that used to all gather in
when it came milking time
and the milk they were willing to lend
Oh those pesky chickens
they were always running around
looking to build their nests
for then they were homeward bound
It could never forget the horses
that each evening had to be fed
especially during the winter
before they were put to bed
Oh how it loved the children
when they used to come and play
up in that big, old hayloft
each and everyday
There the old rope is still hanging
they used to swing on that old thing
with all their child-like noise
what joy it did bring
The old barn surely did feel needed
in that other place and time
it seems so sad today
just to walk away and leave it behind
In my mind I'll hold on to the picture
when I walk through that big, old door
then it'll stay with me forever
and never be forgotten anymore
Susie Swanson Published, 2010
This is another oldie folks, one of my first poems. I've posted it in the past and several people that have my book has already read it but I have several new followers now and decided to post it again. Hope you enjoy, Blessings, Susie
Sunday, October 9, 2011
A little path more traveled
I remember oh so well
the little footlog daddy built
on fond memories I still dwell
Walking was never a chore
it was the only way we knew
we had to cross the creek
it's purpose more and more grew
Walking to the school bus
we came to depend on it so
the footlog was our bridge
to wherever we needed to go
Each time the water rose
we'd find the footlog gone
daddy would build a new one
better than the one we'd known
On hot, summer days
when we were out of school
we'd jump from the footlog
and pretend the creek was our pool
But when the winter came
on the handpole we did hold
especially on a frosty morning
that creek was awfully cold
While many feet did trod
for many a night and day
the footlog was always there
to help us on our way
Today when I look at the creek
my memories are so real
I see mama walking the footlog
and saying "kids please be still"
This is so true folks. The little footlog is gone now, but when I look out my back window or door, I can still see it so plain, laying across that little creek. The creek used to be more full of water than it is now. Because of the dry weather there's not much water in it at the present time. What water there is, is still spread out just like it used to be . The difference now is I'm living on the opposite side of the creek and don't have to worry about crossing it, except when we want to. When the creek gets up, that's a different story. We've only seen it under our house one time since we've lived here and that's been near forty years.
We have a new footlog today that's built closer to our house. All we have to do is walk down our back door steps and walk across the creek. My husband built it several years ago and it is more higher than the old one.
Daddy had a time back then , trying to keep a footlog for us to cross, since we walked everywhere we went and the creek got up more and higher in those days. I guess it was because we had more and longer rains than today. I spent my whole childhood on the other side of the creek and what joy I had. The memories are overwhelming at times, but I cherish them all.. Thank you Daddy for the footlog and the hard work you put into having one and thank you and mama for all that you both done to raise us. What wonderful, loving parents, you shaped me into who I am today.....Susie
Thursday, October 6, 2011
On a beautiful October day
forty one years ago
on the bed a white dress lay
anticipation continued to grow
Flowers were still in bloom
a special October, not plain
joy surely did loom
despite the drizzle of rain
Vows were earnestly made
on the wings of love and a prayer
at God's feet we gladly laid
our lives before him there
Me in my white dress
both in our wedding attire
the day was the very best
two people could ever share
Each year the memories grow
in my heart forever to stay
of that October long ago
and my wonderful wedding day
Simple yet so rich with blessings from above. There is a time for laughter, heartache and song because God keeps an order for all things. A special time in which we each belong, but love remains until the end. God so ordained that it should be this way. It knows no season and the time for love is yesterday, tomorrow and today.. Kenneth and Susie... October,10 1970---October,10 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
Today I pray for others Lord
who seem less blessed than I
may they have food upon their table
and a bed at night to lie
May the sorrow placed upon their hearts
take wings in earnest flight
and they choose to hold your hand Lord
even after the sun shines bright
For those in pain of body
Dear Lord please make them whole
those in doubt, in need of faith
fullfill their yearning soul
The shadow of hatred in this world
Oh Lord please set it free
to be replaced forever more
by your tender love and mercy
Dear Lord thank you for your blessings
and listening to my prayer
in you I find my refuge
because you truly care
Sorry folks, it's still a no go with the comments. I can only post on the blogs that I can click Publish Comment after I leave one. I can't even sign in on mine. I've tried everything, even went to Blogger Help Forum.
They say I need to Delete my files to remove a Cookie that apparently is causing the authenication to go through when I try to sign in, but to be prepared to lose my Homepage, etc. I'm afraid to do that for fear that I won't be able to recover it all. So until then, I say Thank you to everyone for the wonderful comments and I cherish them all. I do read your posts and have tried to comment on several only to no avail. My patience is running pretty thin these days. I will continue to read every post possible and comment on the ones that I can.. Blessings, Susie