Wednesday, August 5, 2009

HAY RIDES

8-5-09...HAY RIDES
Remember Hay Rides? I sure do. They were so much fun. Hay was scattered on a wagon and a local farmer would pull the wagon. We would all pile on and ride that bumpy, dusty thing down the dirt roads in the country. We sang and laughed. I always loved them.
The first ones I went on were pulled by a team of horses or mules. They were always in the late evening and we got back to the starting point well before dark. I loved it then but later things got fancy and the wagon was pulled with a tractor which had lights. That way we could go after dark. That is also when things got out of hand. Some of the kids started pushing and shoving and people got hurt. One boy was pushed off the wagon and left behind. Poor thing had to walk back to town. A lot of the kids thought that was funny but this square britches didn't. Nope, I thought it was uncalled for and I made my point clear to all who would listen. I wasn't the only one who felt that way just the only one to let it be known. The stuff kept going on though and no one said a word. My mouth always overloaded my brain and still does so when I wouldn't shut up the culprits decided to shut me up. They were going to tie my feet together and push me off the wagon. Thing was I heard them planning it and I was ready for them. Also they weren't counting on anyone helping me. Nope!
One of them started talking friendly like to me to distract me while someone else was gonna tie my feet together. I kicked the tar outta someone and bloodied his nose but the other one was still busy at my feet. There were only about three of the bullies and heck fire I figured I could handle them. Course I probably couldn't have but I didn't know that at the time. I kicked, and scratched, and squirmed. Next thing I knew I was free and the three boys were sailing over the side of the wagon and landing on the hard ground. Their feet were tied together. And I mean tied together by six feet firmly tied together. The tractor was noisy and we were noisy so we kept on up the road. My friends had finally helped me.
Next day we heard that one of the boys had a broken arm and they were all bruised and had black eyes and cuts.
We just knew we were in bad trouble then but no one said a word about the hay ride. Nary' a peep was peeped! Not even the culprits. They told everyone they had been in a fight.
The hay rides went on and those bullies never were on another one by golly. To this day I doubt anyone knows what actually happened. I don't even know for sure who helped me. It sure pays to have friends, don't it? That is something we all must have is friends. No Man Is An Island. Nope!

SENIOR MOMENTS

8-4-09...SENIOR MOMENTS

A few weeks ago I came out of Wal Mart and got in my car. Well I thought it was my car. It wasn't! It was just like my car. Same color, same model. I should have been tipped off by how clean the car was in the first place but I wasn't. I tried to put my key in the ignition and it didn't work. Not until that moment did I realize that this was not my car. I was embarrassed and also scared. What if the owner saw me and had me arrested? Oh My Gosh! I quickly got out and went on the next isle to my car. I was shaking. My goodness what if my key had worked in the car. I've heard that sometimes they do. I don't know about that but 'what if' still rolls around in my head. People are stupid for not locking their car in a busy parking lot. Never know when someone like me will have a senior moment. NOW CAN YOU?
That was what is called a 'Senior moment" and I have been having quiet a few of them lately. I'm forgetful to say the least. Sometimes I will go from one room to another and by the time I arrive in the next room I have completely forgotten why I am there. Another scary moment.
One day I came home from shopping and was busy putting things away. I opened a roll of paper towels to replace an empty one. I took the cylinder off the towel holder and laid it down on the counter, picked up the new roll and very politely walked over and put the full roll in the trash. I was in the process of installing the empty cylinder on the holder when I came to my senses. My Gracious! I very hurriedly retrieved the roll out of the trash can and put it where it belonged. Thank goodness it wasn't soiled in the trash and thank goodness no one saw me. One day I did burn a box of tea. Good Grief.
Then there was the day I came home and forgot to get my groceries out of the car for almost three hours. Good thing it was in the winter. Nothing spoiled.
I have gotten in the shower only half undressed and you've already heard about me putting my clean nighties in the toilet. I went in a store one day to pay a bill and I was in the wrong store. I even tried to convince them to take my money for my bill. That young guy could have taken it if he had been dishonest. I realized my mistake and there was another red faced senior moment. I could go on but you get the point don't you?
I remember watching my Grandpa take one shoe off, polish and shine it, put it back on his foot, lean back and relax a few seconds, then by golly he took the same shoe off and proceeded to polish it. I giggled so hard it took me a while to tell him what he was doing. I giggled and giggled and giggled till he told me to shut up. I realize now it wasn't very funny to Papa. Same things happened with my parents.
Now that it is me I know how they felt at the time even though they laughed about it later.
I'm still laughing about my Senior Moments now. I just hope I never lose the ability to laugh at myself. Laughter is good medicine. Maybe it will keep my brain more clear for longer so I can enjoy my senior Moments. Recon it will? Yep, sure it will.



CURE WORSE THAN THE WOUND

8-4-09...CURE WORSE THAN THE WOUND!!!

When we were kids we were rough and ready. Got lots of scrapes and bruises that we just wiped down and kept going. Not much fazed us at all. In the summer our feet got so tough we could run up a shale road, through briars. We could scrape under barbed wire tearing our clothes and our hide as we went and never feel it. We didn't run to the Dr. every time we got a scrape. Some of the things that were done to 'heal' us were not pleasant at all. I hated Merthiolate. If you are not familiar with what that is you are lucky. Daddy thought it was a cure all and I would do anything to keep it off me. It was in a small bottle with a little glass thingie to put a smear of it on your wound. It was red, and it would stain. If a drop of it was put on a scratch on my face I walked around for several with a red splotch on my face. I hated it! It also burned like blue blazes.
One day I was running like a rabbit through the barbed wire gate that was open and lying down on the road coming from Brenda's house I fell in to the barbed wire. In my scrambling to get up I just got tangled up worse in the strands of the wire. It was sticking all in my legs. One of my knees was bleeding profusely in big drips. Thank God I didn't get it in my face. Anyway I couldn't get out of the wire. I started screaming for Brenda to come and help me. When she got there it scared the tar outta' her. She told me "Clydene I'm going to go get Mama". "NOOO! , Brenda don't get anybody. You help me". Well she tried but we were just succeeding in tangling and cutting me more. "Clydene I gotta' get somebody", she said. "NO Brenda they will put that ol' thialate'( that is what we called it) on me and it burns! No You help me". Well it so happened that Auntie saw us and came running. "Brenda go get Lucille and hurry", she said. I was hollering no, no no, but Brenda went anyway. Darn her hide!
When Mama, Norman, and Paul got there they finally got me loose. They took me in Aunties house, washed me with warm water, and poured that darn thilate' all in my wounds. Oh My Gosh I was on fire and I was screaming and fighting like a wild cat. It stopped burning, I was washed and more thilate' poured in, screamin and kickin' again and so on. Used all Auntie's thilate' and all Mama's thilate', next day got more at Hall Parks store and here we went again. I was bandaged at night to sleep and that durn thilate' was always there the next morning until I noticed it wasn't burning near as much. One day it didn't burn nary' a bit. My cuts were healing real good my Mama declared. And they did heal. I still have about five big scars on my legs, the worst being the one on my knee which is white and big slightly raised on the middle of my knee.
My Papa was always ready with his backer' juice to put on our wounds but he was not allowed to help with the barbed wire cuts.
I hated that darn Merthiolate but it was always there. My throat was painted with it when it was sore even. But Hey! It worked and no Dr. I remember stepping on rusty nails, glass, and lots of other things because in the summer I never wore shoes except to Church. That darn stuff worked!
I haven't seen any in years. Seems like I heard it was outlawed as dangerous or something. Well I'm here to tell you the only dangerous part of it was the stinging pain it caused. YEP!!!