Monday, June 18, 2018

Down An Old Dirt Road





Old country roads remind me of walking to church come Sunday morning and walking back come Sunday night. They remind me of walking to the little country store with mama's list in hand. Those early morning walks to catch the school bus and walking back in home at end of day, stopping long enough take our shoes off and wade across the little creek come warm weather, is priceless.

The fresh morning smells of honeysuckle, wild roses, mountain laurel or crabapple blossoms drifting in the spring time air, or walking in those big snows that were knee deep in the winter, rolling in the snow and throwing snowballs at each other along the way.

Taking refuge under a big tree come a hard, summer's rain and still takin a wetting and loving it to no end. Then we ran through mud holes with our bare feet, busting em wide open, never thinking about getting the toe itch till it was to late.

Ahhhh, how can I forget the huckleberries and that sweet taste. We knew exactly where they came up and picked em fast as they ripened, along side the road.

And those delicious blackberries we picked for mama to can and looking forward to that fresh blackberry cobbler, all the while eating more than we picked. Never thinking twice about the chiggers or poison ivy till it was to late.

Climbing over barbed wire fences and ripping our clothes to pick poke salat for mama. She didn't take to kindly to the ripped clothes or the dangers of getting snake bit but the poke salat changed the subject really quick.

  Riding an ole, rusted bicycle around every curve and bend, with nary a brake knowing we'd hit the ditch or the creek. It's a wonders we hadn't broke our neck or worse.

And trying to outrun the others to get the mail every day and stumping our toes along the way. They never did have a chance to heal. When cold weather settled in and we had to wear shoes we'd still hobble down those ole roads.

I couldn’t count how many trips we made to and fro carrying gallons of milk from the neighbors when we were between cows, hungry for some good cornbread and milk to go along with supper, sometimes making a complete meal out of it.

 And how can I forget takin a few poufs off of a cigarette butt after snatching it outta the yard when daddy threw it down. Ahhhh, the sickness and turning green that followed, I'd sure like to forget and is still a reminder today. I said then and there, "never again.” Whewww.

It didn't matter the season or the weather, we made memories to last a lifetime and those ole dirt roads paved the way.

There's so many memories that still linger. I go back quite often and listen to the echoes of a childhood full of many seeds that's been sowed. How can we ever forget an old dirt road.

                                               © Susie Swanson, 2018

12 comments:

  1. Such pleasant and happy memories, Susie. Your words always give me a reminder of my own childhood. This time it was the blackberries and loads of chiggers! and playing in the branch of water at the foot of the hill.

    Have you had plenty of rain? The pastures are turning brown here and we're feeding hay already.

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    1. Thank you Charlotte. We've been getting rain in and out. I sure am praying you get rain soon. It seems it's feat or famine again this summer

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  2. Ah---the memories... Every time I read one of your posts, it always brings back so many memories of my life/childhood.... Even to this day, I love to walk down an old dirt road --just to see where it is going..... That is so peaceful.

    Hugs,
    Betsy

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  3. So many sweet days to look back on, Susie. I enjoyed reading this. Fresh blackberry cobbler--that sounds so good!

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  4. Susie, I bet you could close your eyes and walk that road. That's how it is with kids walking the paths everyday for years. I can remember every route we took to school. Susie, that comment before me is one of those spam things. Better to delete it. Blessings, xoxo, Susie

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  5. Those country roads were full of memories. I miss that time, and my sister and me walking up and down The Sandy Road!

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    1. Thank you Elaine. I miss those times as well.

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  6. Oh, Betsy, how I love this poem! It brings back so many wonderful childhood memories of walking down the dirt road to visit neighbors, pick blackberries, and how I love this poem. I also miss those times when all was well.

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