P is for Pasture

When we were kids, pastures surrounded everything, if it wasn’t cropland.  We could walk behind the house and come face-to-face with cow or two.  We always had quite a few cows, some were for milking and others were for meat.

 The corn barn was also located in the pasture.  After harvest season, we would pull the trailer out there and shovel corn into the barn for the cows.  This structure stood up on stilts with open cutouts for windows.  The cows would always surround the place looking in at us, hoping to get anything we dropped on the ground.  The guys would usually do the shoveling and we girls would get inside to scoot the corn around so there was enough room.  It was hot and humid in there.  We always had a bead of sweat on our upper lip anyway in the summers.  By the time we came out, we were itchy from playing in the corn particles.  Usually, it seemed cooler once we stepped outside, even though it probably wasn’t – just not a confined space anymore where we struggled to stay upright on the ears as they rolled around under our feet.

We dreamed up many forms of entertainment as kids, but it wouldn’t be complete without mentioning the ball games in the pasture.  We would all get together with our cousins and play baseball using the dried cow patties as bases.  We had to watch out for the fresh ones, of course, and make sure to run around them or jump over them when running the bases.  We had a few mishaps along the way but not too many considering how many of us there were.  I’m still not sure why we didn’t pick another place for the games and use rocks or something for the bases.  I guess it was a lot more interesting this way.

Brahma bull

Occasionally a bull would get out of the pasture.  When one escaped the fence, it was exciting and all of our eyes peered from the door or window while we watched for it to come running down the road.  We knew if we valued our lives to stay indoors while the men rounded him up and mended the fence.  Only one time my sister, Scherri, and I were out in the field when the Brahma bull got out of the fence.  He was the meanest one we ever had and we were both scared of him.  But this is a story for another post.

All of us kids could take pleasure in the least little thing out of the ordinary because nothing much happened on the farm.  The thrilling moments offered a great diversion from ordinary life.

We laughed, cried, and generally made the best of all situations.

The Most Unusual and Frightening Events I Experienced as a Child



Actually, these are two different events so we’ll take the unusual first.

Cow pasture - Free clipart

I grew up on a farm in rural southern Texas, as you know already if you’ve been following this blog. We very seldom left the farm except to attend school. I was too young to recall this unusual event, so I had to enlist the help of my mother for this one. The things she told me about I don’t even remember because I wasn't even walking yet. This is what led up to that unusual incident.

During my first year, we lived in an old farmhouse on the other side of the pasture from my grandparents. We referred to this place as the Chernosky house, for the people who owned it. Daddy leased it from them before I was born. Mama said it was awfully run down, an old wood house with 2 x 4’s on the walls. There was no sheetrock or plywood, and no running water. Daddy ran a pipe to the kitchen from the well, which was about 20 or 30 feet from the house. The floors were bare wood and put splinters in my knees and hands when I was old enough to crawl.

I honestly don’t know how my mother put up with some of the things she had to with farm life, being the city girl she was. She told me they used a hot plate for cooking and an ice chest as a temporary refrigerator. There was no heat, so Daddy got a space heater for the bedroom. They would keep that door closed to keep it warm. Mama and Daddy even ate their meals in there because the daytime temperature in the kitchen was 40 degrees in the wintertime.

The roof had leaks all over it, so my parents placed foot tubs and buckets around to catch the water. There was a terrible ice and snowstorm that year, so they took me and went to stay with my grandparents until spring.

Mama and Mamaw (grandmother – Daddy’s mother) were going out to the corn barn one time to get corn to feed the cows. The corn barn was a small, wood building on stilts that was located in the middle of the cow pasture. It had holes cut in the walls to serve as windows and a door. In later years, we would all have to spend our time out in that barn, shoveling corn from a wagon, to fill it up every year after the harvest. The cows would always gather around trying to get at the corn and none of us particularly liked that part of the job.

Mama had me in her arms that day and, Vergie, one of the milk cows, came along and stuck my whole arm in her mouth thinking it was an ear of corn. Mama screamed and she and Mamaw got my arm out of the cow’s mouth before any damage could take place. Mama said, “I forgot how slimy cow’s mouths can be.” I can only picture the expression that must have been on her face that day, because of course I was too young to remember that.

That following summer we moved into a travel trailer that my Daddy bought from a trailer park in Houston. He parked this trailer next to the milk house, which was across the driveway from his parent’s house. It was a palace compared to the Chernosky house, I guess, but it still had none of the modern conveniences we have today. This small, silver trailer also got awfully tiny and crowded with four kids and two adults living in it. However, you have to manage with what you have when you grow up on a farm.

Similar to trailer we lived in - Free Clipart

We lived there for five years doing all the things kids would normally do growing up and then we moved into the sharecropper’s shacks. Kid number six was on the way and we definitely needed more room. It is when we were living there that life got more exciting and my first sister and I experienced the most frightening event in our lives.

When I was about ten or eleven my sister, Scherri, and I were out fooling around in the cornfield when a Brahma bull got out of the pasture and started chasing us. I can’t remember a time in my childhood that was more frightening than that. Of course, we had many bulls while we lived on the farm because Daddy would change them out every few years, but the others did not compare to this creature.

Brahma Bull - Free Clipart

We tried not to let panic set in as we were running across the rows of corn. It was almost harvest time, so the stalks towered above our heads. We were down toward one end of that field and the bull was at the other. We could see him keeping up with us as we crossed the rows and there was a clearing in the field. We ran and ran as fast as we could; darting around the corn stalks and wondering if we were going to make it to the house alive.

Corn Patch - Free Clipart

That bull was a very terrifying sight to a kid, white and big with large horns and a hump on his back and he always looked particularly mean. At that point, it was each man for himself, so we did our best to keep the fright at bay. The only thing to do was to keep running. The house never seemed so far away! I was out of breath and my heart was pounding. My legs felt weak and tired, but I knew I didn’t dare stop until I got in the door. I kept trying to run faster.

I made it home before Scherri and I was still panting when she got to the house. Her face was beet red and she was shaking like a leaf, so Mama put her in a tub of cold water to cool her off and calm her down.

For a few years after that, we kept looking around behind us every time we went out to the cornfield.

Does anyone have a frightening experience to share?

Reminiscing

Creative Commons

My sisters and I are always reminiscing about our childhood. We share a lot of laughs in the process. As you can imagine there was never a dull moment with seven kids nine years apart.


I talked to my little sister yesterday and to one of my other sisters today and it got me to thinking about all the times we shared growing up.

I was born smack dab in the middle of Houston, but we were all raised on a cotton farm south of there so we didn’t see the city very often growing up. Looking back on things, I often wonder how mama stood things on the farm, being a city girl. I do know one thing; she has far more patience than anyone I know. And you’d have to have an endless supply of patience when you hear all the stories we don’t even remember.

I can’t imagine standing outside washing diapers and everything else on a scrub board while visiting with my aunt who found herself in the same boat. I can’t even fathom what must have gone through her head at the time.

I envision her getting much more than she signed up for or expected when she married daddy, but she never complained one time. It couldn’t have been easy with all of us little kids.

Mama was always scared for our safety, but of course, kids are kids, storms were an exciting time for us. The rain that pounded the windows and left big mud puddles everywhere was fantastic. We couldn’t wait to race out and wade in the ditches. It was wonderful to stand out on the porch and watch the thunderstorms roll in. The breeze was cool and refreshing, drying up all the muggy sweat. Of course, once the shower subsided, it was worse than ever and the ground would steam, our clothes sticking to our backs once again and sweat beading up on our faces.

Even when a bull escaped the fence, it was exciting and all eyes peered from the door or window while we watched for it to come running down the road. We knew if we valued our lives, to stay indoors while the men rounded him up and mended the fence. Only one time my sister and I were out in the field when the Brahma bull got out of the fence. He was the meanest one we ever had and we were both scared of him. That’s a story for another post.

All of us kids could take pleasure in the least little thing out of the ordinary because nothing much happened on the farm. The thrilling moments offered a great diversion from ordinary life.

We laughed, cried, and generally made the best of all situations, whether it was games, watching the clouds roll by, or eating watermelon and then standing in line waiting for the bathroom, making each other laugh to see who would wet their pants.