February

There’s something about the month of February

It warms my heart despite the ground hog day

He tries to ruin it thinking he’s a know it all

 He can’t predict the weather, there’s no way

Two presidents would roll over in their graves

It’s a very good thing they don’t have a clue

They’d pull out all the muzzle loaders and cannons

Knowing that groundhog was overshadowing them too

 If he thinks he’s going to take over Valentine’s Day

He’s got another thing coming that’s for sure

That’s the one day of the year set aside for love

And cupid’s arrow will not pierce him, I assure

I don’t even know why they want to give him a holiday

He thinks cause he saw his shadow it’ll be six weeks more

Spring will be here soon enough, we don’t need him around

He’s waiting for garden time so he can slip in the back door

I got news for that groundhog and he better listen close

February may be short and sweet but it can stand its ground

There’s no little bushy tail critter going to take it over

Get back in that hole before it becomes your burial mound

© Susie Swanson, 2017

Reminising

When I look at these beautiful mountains surrounding me and these old roads I’ve traveled down, I think of the many memories made every time my feet hit the ground.

It may not mean much to some but it’s worth more than any money can buy. An old country girl having lived the good life and praising God until I die.

So many paths I’ve taken, my yearning heart has always brought me back, to this grand old place where the simple life is still intact.

Walking down a little trail to my grandparents house many a yesterday. Helping grandma with her canning, peeling peaches and apples and anything else I could get into, made my day.

Slipping down below their house to the little plum tree, My goodness, those plums were sweet as could be even when I had to shake the tree.

Even after I became a teenager I walked that little trail many a time. Just to sit, talk and listen awhile, brought so much joy to my heart and peace to my mind.

Sitting in that little porch swing listening to em talk about their yesterdays, really stuck with me and shaped me in so many different ways

Then after I went to work and had a little money to spend, I couldn’t wait to take them a present every now and then.

One Christmas in particular I bought Pa a brand new pair of Hush Puppy shoes. Christmas Eve was his birthday and it was even more special, he sure did love those shoes.

Of course I never left my grandma out, she always thought of me. I sure did love those cathead biscuits she kept in the little cabinet, I ate one every time I had the opportunity.

My girlfriends and I flattened out many a trail, since we walked quite often to the store. We surely did enjoy it and when we got a little money, we let the hammer down even more.

A few coins in our pockets, we’d run as fast as you’ve ever seen. That RC and Moon Pie sure did taste good when you save ye own money by working in between.

There wasn’t many hills and trails we didn’t manage to find and plenty of trails that wasn’t there until we came along and made our own kind.

And the pleasures of walking down an old dirt road, picking wildflowers and the smell of honeysuckles, and looking at my other little Ma’s roses that she planted and growed.

She planted roses clear across the country side, a legacy that keeps on giving. Every spring when I see those beautiful roses I think of her and it feels like a part of her is still living.

And my other grandpa I never had the privilege to know. He died before I was born but there’s a big part of him that lives in me, everywhere I go

I can hear his voice and see his face in that little gristmill he owned. I live on the very spot today where all of the commotion went on.

My grandpa’s not gone, I know I’ve wrote about it all before. He’s still alive today in my heart and the echoes I hear every time I walk out my door.

And his blood and grit will always run through my veins. His strength and determination became what I am today. I can still see him down every road, trail and lane.

 And there’s so many placed I’ve walked, especially to church with a whole gang tagging along, made me feel big, brave and strong.

Oh how I loved those night time revivals, they made me happy as a lark. Even though I was scared to death of those haints that everyone told about lurkin around after dark.

So many scary stories were told by so many of the older folks around. A headless woman, a crying baby, it’s no wonder we thought the booger man was after us every time our feet hit the ground.

One would think after coming straight from church after being renewed, we wouldn’t have been so scared of the booger man waiting to perch but that ole devil sure was crude.

We were all scared of our shadow if the truth be told. But it didn’t stop us one bit from being out after dark, we acted really grown up and bold.

Even on Halloween we’d walk a mile or two for one piece of candy. Now days kids doesn’t think walking is much fun and to be honest it ain’t to smart and dandy.

And playing outside was the only video games we ever knew. Sometimes  our imagination got the best of us and we got into trouble a time or two.

Throwing rocks and accidentally hitting one another in the head, knowing fully well we could have killed someone. We paid the price when we hit the bed.

It’s like the old saying, I threw a rock at my brother and I got there first and so did my mother.

And we rode an old bicycle without any brakes, flying through the air, brairs, brambles and plenty of snakes.

It’s a wonder we ain’t all dead but it was not meant to be. Kids being kids just curious and free but our daddy and mama didn’t agree.

My mama bless her heart, we just about drove her crazy sometimes. She once said, we wouldn’t have made it if the Good Lord hadn’t been looking down on us all the time.

But now when I look back upon it all and remember when, I wish a thousand times over I could do it all again.

Well most of it anyway, some I’d rather forget. Like the time I almost died trying out grandma’s sweet snuff, I might as well have been dead.

And maybe all the times I hit my brothers over the head with the broom. Nay, they deserved it and so much more. Especially, messing up the house after cleaning it. They never missed a room.

But that was just our way of showing that we loved one another. It may sound odd to some but we believed in looking out for each other. Of course we tried to convince our mother.

In all honesty, our dad and mom taught us right from wrong. We may not have had many material things but in our house God and love was mighty strong.

Our clothes may have looked ragged and worn, but mama always said rags are honorable as long as they’re clean and she made sure of that every wash day morn.

I carried many buckets of water from that little spring, filling up those big wash tubs on wash day and taking baths to keep clean.

Those big tubs had two handles, one on each side and we’d set them in the sun. It was a sure way of having warm water to take baths when the day was done.

We considered ourselves lucky since the spring was close by in the back yard. Some had to carry their water a lot farther and up hills, bound to have been hard.

I’ll never forget the little dipper that hung up above the spring on a limb. Nothing like a drink of cold spring water on a hot summer day from that dipper, it was a gem.

Especially after hoeing in the garden since the break of dawn. Running for that dipper of water and going in for dinner (lunch) eating them garden veggies fresh grown.

After a long day at school, a piece of cornbread and a little green onion straight from the garden tasted good. All part of an old country girl’s life and childhood.

Carrying milk home from the neighbors when we got without a cow.

We could drink a gallon a day and buttermilk too, if mama would allow.

I remember churning that buttermilk all day in that churn jar. Thought to my soul my arms would fall off. It took that butter a long time to rise to the top of that jar.

Awe, there’s so many things I could tell about. I feel like a queen on her throne, without a doubt.

And when the echoes start calling me back to my past, I listen and tell my stories fresh as the morning dew on the green grass. It rekindles my heart to go back to that wonderful, old past.

There's  nothing that I’ll ever forget or leave behind. An old country girl living in a country world where God hung the moon, stars and the sun out to shine.

                                             © Susie Swanson, 2017

Making Do

My mama came from a family of ten kids, two girls and eight boys. She grew up in a close, knit family that believed in working for ye keep and learning early on how to survive and get by. Many times she told how they survived the depression and made do with whatever they had.

Back then everybody grew their own food but the basics were hard to come by. During the depression they gave out coupons and they’d pick em up at the little local store. The storekeeper would hand em out each month according to how many was in a family. He always had to keep records of what he handed out for the government. He helped people out a lot too. They’d bring their canned goods in and exchange em for something they needed. There was always someone in need and he knew he would be able to get rid of it all.

Mama said most of the time they’d just get a couple pounds of coffee to do a month or five to ten pounds of flour, and a bucket of lard with their coupons. If they were lucky to get an extra coupon they’d get a small bag of sugar or an extra five pounds of flour. The flour came in cloth sacks and their mother saved them up and sewed them into dresses and shirts.

 Mama said that grandma would boil the same coffee grounds over and over till that coffee was so thin ye could see through it. Even after the depression started easing up and grandpa went to work for the WPA and they had a little more to live on grandma was still in the saving mode and kept boiling the coffee grounds over and over. My grandpa got tired of it and told her one day, now Sarie (Sarah) stop boiling them coffee grounds over so much. What ye doing, straining it through a white rag, you can stop now I want some real coffee not stained water. It was hard for grandma to change. She’d been in the saving business to long.

They always had plenty of cornmeal for bread since they grew the corn and grandpa carried big toe sacks to my other grandpa’s old grist mill every week. She said they only used the flour for breakfast cause they sure did love them cathead biscuits and gravy. There was many a morning they had to eat cornbread with their gravy cause they didn’t have any flour. Of course, cornmeal gravy and cornbread is the best eating around.

She and her brothers used to trap rabbits and take them to the little country store in exchange for some of the basics they needed. This was after they cleaned the rabbits up good and the head had to stay on them. My grandma knew exactly what the rabbits were worth by how many they had caught. He paid by the pound and she knew it. She’d make out a list of what she needed and send them to the store to fill it.

One time she and one of her brother’s that was the closest to her in age caught ten rabbits and took off towards the store with the rabbits on a stick and grandma’s list. On the way to the store her brother told her we’re gonna get us somethin good today. Mama told him, no we can’t cause mommy knows exactly how many rabbits we got, she’s made her list. He stuck his hand up under his coat and pulled out another rabbit. He said, I told you we’re gonna get us somethin good today. The only problem was the rabbit didn’t have a head. Apparently, while they were cleaning them one lost its head someway and he’d stuck it under his coat. The storekeeper always wanted them with their heads intact. He had a little shed over to the side of the store building that people hung their rabbits in.

When they got to the store and hung their rabbits they went in and told him how many they had and gave him their list. He walked outside and went in and looked at the rabbits from the door and counted them. He said, somebody’s counted wrong this time, you’ve got eleven instead of ten.

 Mama said her brother spoke up and said alrighty, we got enough to get us somethin good this time. The storekeeper told him ye sure do, so pick out what ye want. Her brother pointed to a big jar of candy sitting on the counter and said we want a whole, paper bag of that candy. He filled their list and the bag of candy and they headed home. The candy was chocolate drops and can still be bought today, especially around Christmas time and they’re rich as can be.

On the way home they eat the whole bag of chocolate drops and by the time they got home they were sicker than a buzzard. They started puking and they puked all night. My grandma didn’t know what in the world to think. She was up with em all night trying to clean up the messes and do what she could for em.

The next morning they felt and looked like death warmed over. When grandma seen they were on the mend she asked em what did they eat to get so sick. They’d been taught all of their life not to lie and knew if they did they’d be in worse shape than they already were so they told her the truth. She marched them back over the road to the store and made em tell the storekeeper what they’d done. He just stood there and looked at em for a bit and then he spoke up and said, well I guess they’ve been punished enough this time but it better not happen again.

From that day forward they didn’t take another rabbit without its head and they never eat another chocolate drop as long as they lived.

To say times were rough is an understatement but they survived the best way they knew how and mama said they never went to bed hungry a night in their life. They always had something to eat even if it was an old possum baked in the oven. I guess that’s why she hated the sight of an ole possum. Back then times were so hard they had to make do.

                                            © Susie Swanson, 2017

The above pic is my mama, her dad and mom, (My Grandparents). 

 Notice how tall the corn was. Blessings to all. ~Susie~

Yesterday's Sky

I am lonely for the sounds of yesterday

Wagon wheels rolling down a dirt road

Or that old gristmill in the distance

Grinding corn for many a wagon load

I listen with my heart and write it down

Everything is so special and worthy of

A story that lingers from yesterday

Is a life’s lesson with pride and love

I treasure that old run down barn

So many secrets and stories to tell

My yearning heart over flows

For these are the things I dwell

Upon that little hillside everyday

Where juicy strawberries grew

The echoes of small voices

Still sound so brand new

Or that forever old homeplace

Where silence was never heard

We were free as the wind that blew

And sailed high as any bird

Running through a green field

Playing ball on Sunday afternoon

Walking home from church

By the light of a full moon

Sitting on the front porch

On a hot summer’s night

Oh the joy of simple pleasures

Is never far from sight 

Sledding down a snowy hill

On a cold winter’s day

In one door and out the other

As childhood memories sway

Helping mama make quilts

Stitching every stitch in time

Windblown quilts on clotheslines

Blowing in early spring time

Those Christmas time memories

Awakens my heart with a song

They taught me the gift of giving

Love is the best gift I’ve ever known

We may not have had much

Of the finer things in the world

The many life lessons taught

Takes me back to that little girl

Still fresh as the morning dew

Old as my heart will allow

Like that old mule daddy used

In the spring he loved to plow

My muse is daily calling me

Down every hill and trail

It brings a world of comfort

There’s so many things to tell

Writing about my yesterdays

My inkpot will never run dry

They are planted in my heart

And still blue as yesterday’s sky

© Susie Swanson, 2016