This is a bird's eye view of my grandparent's farm in Pike County, Alabama. "The farm," as we so fondly called it, had been in the family for a few generations. It is bounded on three sides by the road on the very top, the road on the left, and the main highway on the right. Just below the top road, there is a dirt road that runs through the property to another highway.
Though my grandparents lived in town, they still farmed several fields, growing enough vegetables and vine fruits (watermelon, canteloupe) to feed a small army through the winter. My family was that small army:-) I don't think I ate a canned vegetable until I was in college. Boy, what a rude awakening!
What's neat about this bird's eye view is that you can see the terrace farmed fields, even though terrace farming had not been done for more than 80 years on the land. You can also see from this ariel shot the fencing Granddaddy put around the property and through the property that he used to separate his livestock (cows & pigs...He so fondly called his pigs HAWGS), from his hay fields, and his planting fields.
My Great Grandparent's home and my Grandparent's first home sat on this property until the late 1980's, when, at age 72, Granddaddy tore them down with the help of his big ole' John Deere tractor! One of Granddaddy's best friends tried to help him, but one day was enough for this friend. His friend told him, "Willis! I'm to old to be doing this hea' stuff." His friend was only 67:-) Granddaddy finished tearing down and removing the rest of the homes with only the help of John Deere!
As a kid, I loved riding in the back of Granddaddy's yellow pickup truck down the dirt road to 'feed the cows' in the pasture. Granddaddy had a 1970 GMC Pickup truck. He picked yellow because he was color blind and yellow was one of the few colors he could see. He called his truck the Yellow Banana! Grandaddy would load up the hay in the back of that old yellow pickup. My sister and I loved to help throw the hay out of the back of the truck for the cows. We were of little help when it came to lifting the bales out of the tail end. But we thought we were helping by grabbing the handfuls of loose straw and throwing it out for the baby calves. Granddaddy's favorite cow was Big Red. She was BIG and she was RED with big ole horns on her head. She was named after Granddaddy's favorite chewing gum - yep, you guessed it - Big Red!
Granddaddy's cows were like pets to him. He had about 60 head at one point. He played with them and they'd play with him. I'd see him playing chase with them...but the problem was, they just sometimes didn't know when to stop. In one such case, Granddaddy had been 'horsing' around with this young bull. But it came time that Granddaddy had to pull the hay out of the barn and feed the hungry masses. So as he bent over to pick up the bail, this young bull came from behind and butted Granddaddy. Granddaddy regained his footing and quickly turned around just in time to give this young bull a swift kick in the backside. Granddaddy was laughing the whole time. He loved his animals...except for those nasty HAWGS!
Granddaddy, like any true Southern Gentleman, kept a shotgun or two on a rack in the Yellow Banana. You just never knew what you'd run into out at the farm. There were wild turkeys, deer, and even coyotes - among other critters. But the one critter Granddaddy hated with a passion was the rattlesnake. He looked for any opportunity to take one out. If he were driving down the road and he saw a rattler, he's stop, load his gun, and shoot it. Didn't matter where he was, if he saw a rattler, it was as good as dead! I remember, one time, when Granddaddy was plowing one of his fields getting it ready for planting. My Grandma had come down the steps of the little trailer they had on the farm. Suddenly, she froze. I was playing on my Great Grandparent's porch when I saw her - and what was coiled up in front of her. It was a HUGE rattler! I began screaming for my Granddaddy, but I was sure he couldn't hear me nor did I think he saw me flailing about to get his attention. He was so far away and on his big noisy tractor. I was so scared! But he had saw me...and he saw the snake. Without missing a beat, and just as smooth as can be, he turned his tractor Grandma's direction. And right as he got to that snake, he engaged his plow, plowing the rattler right into the ground. Granddaddy may not have been a knight in shining armor, but he was our hero to the rescue on a John Deere!
Another fond memory of the farm was the time that I wanted to pet a baby calf. My grandparents hardly ever let me out of their sight and warned me to never go into the cow pasture. However, this one day I managed to escape Grandma's careful eye and climbed into the pasture near a little black calf. I pulled a handful of lush, green grass out of the ground as bait to lure the calf closer to me. It was alone so I thought things were perfectly safe. Then suddenly, CRASH! From the thick brush to my right, Daddy Bull came charging toward me. He was HUGE! I dropped that grass in my hand and scurried as fast as my little short legs could take me to the fence. I don't even remember climbing over the fence. I think I just jumped over, clearing the 5 foot fence topped with barbed wire. I went from certain death to life in an instant!!! Somebody should've signed this girl up for pole vaulting! I'm telling you, now! My little heart was pounding so fast! Unbeknownst to me, Grandma had been watching me the WHOLE time. All my quiet natured Grandma said afterwards was, "I told you not to go into that pasture. Now, you learned your lesson, didn't you?" Yes Ma'am! I certainly did! I remained safe in the back of Granddaddy's truck on all future trips into the cow pasture!
I won't go on with my other misadventures on the farm...my Mom would kill me if she knew!
I remember spending summers on the farm, picking black eye peas, corn, green beans, tomatoes, okra, squash, eggplant - hearing the crickets singing their summer songs as we worked one row after another. Granddaddy even grew potatoes and sweet potatoes. They had pear trees, crab apple trees, pecan trees, grapevines, and of course, wild blackberries. When we were done picking, we'd haul it all back to their house in town where the whole family spent the next several days shelling peas, shucking corn, canning and freezing. Loved the smells that emanated through the house in the summer time! Now that was some good stuff! How I wish I'd learned to can and cook like my Grandma. But for her, it was all rote. Her recipes weren't written, but handed down to her by her mother. As a child, I wasn't really interested in learning any of this when she tried to teach me. Oh how I wish I had listened to her and learned!
Other fond memories of farm life includes exploring the treasures found in a freshly plowed field. We often found Indian arrowheads, broken pottery, old broken plates, bowls, or medicine bottles. "The Farm" was rich in coal. You could just pick lumps of it up on the ground. It was a really neat place to be as a kid, full of adventures and an ever so entertaining place where my imagination could go wild!
I am so thankful for the wonderful memories of my Grandparents. They invested a lot in my sister and me. So much of who I am is due to their influence. I miss them so terribly. Finding their farm on Google Earth just brought forth this flood of wonderful memories and emotions. (That, and the fact that Granddaddy would have just celebrated his 95th birthday two days ago - and Grandmas is coming in a couple of weeks.)
I comforst myself with the knowledge that one day...we'll be together again GUARANTEED...shelling peas and shucking corn as we prepare for a feast like no other! But until then my desire is to give our children wondeful memories - AND - in doing so, I think I'll stay out of the bull pen!
In His Love, Cathy
