lucyanna girl
<font color=blue>My hair looks like Tigger spit ou
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2005
- Messages
- 3,202
I climbed trees - really big trees as a little girl, jumped out of them too. Anyone else climb way up high to the thinner, more bendable limbs and ride them down to the ground? China-berry trees were great, you could grab on and float down until your feet were on the ground, let go and watch them snap back into the air.
Daddy let me turn an old shed into my very own playhouse. I hauled old boards and buckets in and made shelves and cabinets - my very own kitchen. Heaven only knows how many mud-pies I made! Had to get daddy to come kill a stump-tailed moccasin every once in a while, they were mean snakes and would try to bite you instead of running away.
I loved it when Daddy would ride back in the pasture or cotton field and let me ride on the tailgate of his truck. He drove really slow and I would ride along and sing - if you ever heard me sing you would know that was the best place to do it!
My bicycle was my trusty stead. I used clothes pins to fasten playing cards to the spokes so when I rode they clicked. The faster I rode the faster they clicked. My best friend lived about two miles down the road one way and my Nanny lived about a mile the other way, I could spend hours just ridding back and forth.
When the wind would come up before a rain I remember racing wildly across the yard trying to beat the wind, either that or run and jump high enough to take flight.
Every two weeks in summer the book mobile would come. I would gather up all my returns and wait in the cane patch close to the road watching for them. When they arrived I would spend as much time as they would allow searching for the very best books - most anything I had not already read. When my husband took me years later to meet his mother can you imagine how thrilled I was when I found out his mother was the book mobile lady?
We all played together, all the kids on the place. It didn't matter what color your skin was or whose Daddy wrote the pay checks. It did matter that you were kind to each other and played fair, any daddy was free to correct those who broke the rules. They did it with kindness but you knew you better listen or your Daddy would be the next one correcting you and that might involve a switch he made you break off the bush and bring to him!
I don't remember anyone getting hurt too much. Maybe a skinned knee from falling down on the gravel in the driveway or a cut hand from "washing dishes" in the playhouse - mud-pies make really hard to see through "dish-water".
Can you tell I was a "Daddy's Girl"?
Penny
Daddy let me turn an old shed into my very own playhouse. I hauled old boards and buckets in and made shelves and cabinets - my very own kitchen. Heaven only knows how many mud-pies I made! Had to get daddy to come kill a stump-tailed moccasin every once in a while, they were mean snakes and would try to bite you instead of running away.
I loved it when Daddy would ride back in the pasture or cotton field and let me ride on the tailgate of his truck. He drove really slow and I would ride along and sing - if you ever heard me sing you would know that was the best place to do it!
My bicycle was my trusty stead. I used clothes pins to fasten playing cards to the spokes so when I rode they clicked. The faster I rode the faster they clicked. My best friend lived about two miles down the road one way and my Nanny lived about a mile the other way, I could spend hours just ridding back and forth.
When the wind would come up before a rain I remember racing wildly across the yard trying to beat the wind, either that or run and jump high enough to take flight.
Every two weeks in summer the book mobile would come. I would gather up all my returns and wait in the cane patch close to the road watching for them. When they arrived I would spend as much time as they would allow searching for the very best books - most anything I had not already read. When my husband took me years later to meet his mother can you imagine how thrilled I was when I found out his mother was the book mobile lady?
We all played together, all the kids on the place. It didn't matter what color your skin was or whose Daddy wrote the pay checks. It did matter that you were kind to each other and played fair, any daddy was free to correct those who broke the rules. They did it with kindness but you knew you better listen or your Daddy would be the next one correcting you and that might involve a switch he made you break off the bush and bring to him!
I don't remember anyone getting hurt too much. Maybe a skinned knee from falling down on the gravel in the driveway or a cut hand from "washing dishes" in the playhouse - mud-pies make really hard to see through "dish-water".
Can you tell I was a "Daddy's Girl"?
Penny