It Wasn't Little House on the Prairie

It was my childhood home, the little house on the road. We lived in a small, two bedroom house that sat on the edge of the main gravel road that ran the length of the James Connally Airbase. Even in past family reunions, everyone talked about the 'little house on the road.' It was home. It was warm and inviting. We weren't wealthy, but our parents provided a strong family foundation for us. We lived in the little house on the road until I was 7 or so. Then, we moved.
We moved to the big white house on the hill!! It was great. 10' ceilings (great for Christmas trees), big bedrooms and a huge front porch. If you sat on the porch and looked out over the pasture, or the bottom as we named it, you saw three or four fenced sections with a 'slew' of water running a distance through the main pasture. My dad was a dairyman, my mother was, well, a mother. We had our breakfast and supper (as we called it) together every day. That was a family thing for us.
A lot fun took place in the big 'ol house on the hill. We had birthday parties, after church coffee and cake gatherings, fantastic holidays with all the trimmings and most of all...our secure place where it was safe and warm.
Way down across the bottom ran the tree line of the old creek. For many years when it rained forever, the creek would come of it's banks and completely flood the bottom. It would take a day or so for it to recede back into the banks and allow the drenched, muddy earth to dry again. That was just a part of a prolific country life there. No one broke into a panic, no one shook with fear...that was life on the farm.
Now, all of my first cousins were older than me. My brother was eight years older and everyone else was older. So, I was the little sister. Finally, when I turned '12', I f got an invitation to go to a movie with all of them.
During that particular summer, my daddy had driven me up around the long, winding gravel road to the Hudson's Farm. Mr. Hudson raised pigs. I had begged daddy for a baby pig forever. I wanted to experience raising that particular animal. So it was. When we arrived, Mr. Hudson walked out of barn with two NOT ONE, two baby black and white piglets. They squirmed and wiggled and he put them in my arms. I was soooo tickled...I finally had baby pigs to raise.
Daddy had built a big, square pen made of chicken wire, for them with a low shed for shade in one of the back corners. When they had grown, we'd jump on 'em and ride 'em...until they swept us under that sharp jutting tin roof. We learned to bail like champs!!
If you're not familiar with pigs, they love to have a SLOP hole. Yes, it's exactly what it sounds like! In the front corner of their pen, they had created this nasty, watery mix of slimy mud and muck and stink...good grief Charlie Brown. It smelled to the high heavens. The deal with me and those pigs was -- 'it's your job to carry their feed to them every late afternoon and feed them. The first time you don't do that, it's off to the meat locker for them!' On the farm, everything had a purpose...you grew it, you ate it, you started over!! Oh, and you named them all as well!
Wow! I was getting to go to the movie with the big kids. I decided to wear my newest short set mother had bought me so I'd look really 'cool' with the older teenagers! I was dressed, hair fixed, smile in place and almost time to leave.
My daddy opened the back screen door and shouted, 'have you slopped your hogs?' Oops, 'no, I didn't get around tuit!!' He replied, 'better go do it or they're gone tomorrow!' Now, I didn't want to waste time changing clothes.
All I had to do was carry two half full buckets of feed about 100 yards or so and poor it over the fence. I did. I forgot how hungry hogs became after a long, lazy afternoon of soaking in the mud and slime! They greeted me in the front corner of the pen...yep...the SLOP HOLE! Those two hit that hole and launched a solid wall of stinky, slimy mud on me from head to toe. I dropped the buckets and ran home insulted, angry and crying my eyes out. Needless to say, that was the last time I was willing to feed those two boys. They went off in the trailer the next morning.
No, I didn't get to go to the movie. What had I learned via my procrastination? If you accept the responsibility for something, stick with it. There will be no good end if you deviate because a more attractive choice walks through the door.
I've thought about that escapade many times in my life. It was another great piece of my childhood in the country! I got to experience things that other kids never would nor could they imagine living in the country, on a farm with acres and acres of land to explore! Would I do it over? In a heartbeat, although times have changed.
There were so many things our parents did that nurtured our spirit, our mental and emotional health and our character. I thank them often for all of that. Our home was a strong, Christian home (yes, we attended Concord Baptist Church and in the summer we used the old 'funeral fans' to keep cool). We learned the value of respect, responsibility, trustworthiness and more.
As I move ahead in the coming weeks, that strong, deep surge of a tremendous upbringing will keep nudging me forward.
Never think that all of the things you experienced did not influence you in some way. And, never think that there is not someone watching you, listening to you and perhaps wishing they could be like you! One of my major responsibilities as an Instructional Coordinator in Humble ISD was to work with a Character Education Program district wide.
A favorite saying I carried from those years is this...
You shape students (others) character everyday by what you do and what you say.