Sunday, June 26, 2016

Going bare-footed



When I was a kid, the long months of summer stretched by without the need for shoes.

 We would peel them off on the last day of school, and not put any back on, until late autumn.


All summer long, we would run around in our bare feet, walking through the springy grass, through pillows of garden dirt, over sharp sticks, even walking on gravel roads

It was fun walking on the slippery rocks in the creek, and climbing trees by gripping them with our toes.

 Our feet became like shoes themselves, hardened and able to resist any kind of puncture short of stepping on a nail or broken glass.

Nothing like going barefooted, during a fierce game of hide-and-go-seek.

Course there was a down side, to going bare-footed.


Once I was running along the hard dirt path that ran to our barn, and I stepped on a baby toad.

 My foot squished him flat, as I looked back, I saw his flat tongue protruding from his mouth, that can give you a moment of squeamishness.

And the burden of getting your foot clean again.

As I've gotten older, I miss... going bare-footed...the feeling of grass...of  that cool...feathery tickling on the arches  of your foot...as you walked through it.

And the many other good times we had,  while going bare-footed .

Children today, wear their shoes pretty much  all year long.


Missing out on a unique  childhood experience like the one we had.

 

Until Next Time.  God Bless.

My Meditations by,   Coleman

Tuesday, June 21, 2016

Commodity Cheese


We grew up poor in Southeastern Kentucky during the Harry S. Truman era.

Dad was out of work for a while in the 50's. The U.S. department of  commodities  kept a lot of families like ours, from going hungry.

 
I grew to know and love the government cheese   "it was good" ,  and you could use it for about everything.

Government cheese is above average compared to other brands.

 It made some of the best sandwiches,  and was  good to eat  by its self.


Poor folks like us had to stand in  long lines for the surplus food .

 But  it was well worth the wait, if you were down and out .

Other than cheese, we received canned  pork, flour, rice,  dried milk, peanut butter, and  pinto beans

Fortunately we didn't have to stay on the program long.

 I was kind of hoping after we stopped going, we could buy cheese like that in the stores .

We tried but couldn't find any that tasted quite like the commodity cheese.

Most everyone liked it so well , actually a black market developed  for it.

People were willing to buy it from you if you didn't want yours for some reason.

As I think back on those times  we stood in line  to get our commodity's.

 I  remember missing the cheese most of all, but was truly grateful Dad no longer needed  assistance.

So  that someone who did need it more than we did, could have our share.

Until Next Time.  God Bless.

My Meditations by, Coleman


Tuesday, June 14, 2016

Dad's Watermelon Patch




When I think of summer I think of watermelons. 

Dad was one the best farmers in the community, you might say he could drive a stick into the ground and a tree would grow out of it.


Dad fought with the earth when he worked it, when he
ploughed his fields, you could hear him talking to his horses' giving out instructions for a long ways off.


Above all, Dad loved raising  watermelons.


He'd send off for the best watermelon seed he could find,
plant them in  a good piece of land with just the
right sandy soil for melon raising, and it seemed as though the melons just bulged up out of the ground for him. 
 

But they were Dad's melons; he didn’t have any idea of sharing them with the boys of the neighbourhood.

 He was fiercer about his melons than anything else; if you just happened to walk close to his melon patch, you’d see Dad standing and watching you with a glower on his face.

And likely as not he’d have his gun under his arm.

Dad was the most generous person you'd ever meet  he'd give you anything you asked for, but he distasted  a thief.

But boys will be boys and one time the boys raided his patch and wasted more melons than they took.

So he said, ‘All right, I’ll get ’em.’ So he went by his friend  Dr. Parrott's office, to pick up some Cro-ton-oil of which Small doses taken internally cause  severe diarrhea.

He used a syringe and needle to inject  some of the oil into the best melons he had left.

Sure enough the boys came back that night for another fill of melon and round of fun,  and  they sampled some of  those he had Doctored up, receiving a bad case of diarrhea.

Dad said that stopped the water melon thieving and he got to enjoy  the rest of his melons with out  any other incidents from the boys that year.


Stories were heard from some of the boys later, that stated;  stay away from that old mans watermelon patch what ever you do, he is evil.



Until next Time.  God Bless.

My Meditation by ,    Coleman


HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL THE DAD'S WHO HAVE PASSED ON AS MY FATHER HAS....AND TO ALL YOU GREAT DAD'S CELEBRATING FATHER'S DAY WITH US THIS YEAR.... MAY GOD BLESS EACH OF YOU.



 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

 

Tuesday, June 7, 2016

This pew is taken!



It seems some churchgoers - Missionary Baptist  included - are somewhat possessive of a "family members  pew".

That was kind of the case for Mother...Mother had  been sitting in the same pew... "At LICK FORK MISSIONARY BAPTIST CHURCH"....  for a number of years.

Minus Dad of course, since he hadn't been led "At that time" to attend with her.

On Sunday mornings as was expected,  Mother and her children would fill the pew .

  Fellow members often  "saved" the pew just for them.

After her passing;  her seat in the pew remained empty for a little while.

Since none of the children wanted to sit in it.

 But  things were about to change.

 After Mom's passing Dad got the urge  to start going to Church, you probably guessed it, the seat he chose to occupy was Mother's.

Seems mother had  been keeping the seat warm for him all those years, and he hadn't realized it.

 Hoping  that one day he would change his mind and start going to Church .

I'm sure it pleased Mother that her faithfulness had  been  finally rewarded when Dad started attending .

Don't think Mother ever realized how special she was to so many people... and  to our dad...  and  how  that it must have been ordained  for her to sit in that pew.

 Seems God and her fellow Church members knew this well, and some one had written on the pew... in invisible Ink... "this pew is taken".

 " LICK FORK MISSIONARY BAPTIST CHURCH" located on Hwy East 80 London, Kentucky.

 Mother's  favorite place to Worship, she loved that Church and its people.

 

Until Next Time.  God Bless.

My Meditations by,  Coleman