Grandma Rouse
Memories are running through my mind like a rushing mountain stream! We lost my grandma Rouse this March day. It doesn't surprise me that she left this earth in the spring. Grandma loved flowers and spring was when the farm came to life. It was garden time, baby chick time...and the celebration of Easter. Oh the gatherings at Easter! Grandpa's big egg hunt debut each year. Hundreds of eggs spread out all over the field behind their house - and scores of aunts, uncles, cousins and friends there to share lunch and the outdoors at their place. There was food....and more food! And of course everyone emptied their pockets to put coins into plastic eggs as well as bring their offerings of multi-colored dyed eggs. The hunt time was counted down and Grandpa alone opened the gate to the field with kids roaring to run after the prizes! All took their bags, baskets and boxes and slowly brought back the loot! There were prizes for the most found and of course everyone ate eggs! I can remember one particular time when the boys were cracking those eggs on their heads for fun before eating them. One particular time, one of those "boiled" eggs was not boiled and some lucky little feller got a runny egg face to the delight of the others watching the hilarity! Even if it was raining, that egg hunt seemed to happen!
The barn was the choice place for most of the kids to be, though often when too many were there, it became off limits. When we didn't have a red flag, many hours were spent in the hay loft, playing hide n seek and simply doing what tow heads do! The house had a sloping room on both sides in the back - perfect for the ball games we loved to play. All the cousins would divide up into two teams....one on each side of the house. The opposing team would throw the ball over the roof and if we caught it we would race to tag those on the other team before they could run to safety on the other side. Occasionally the ball would get caught behind the chimney flu and we'd have to get an adult or older kid to rescue it! Hours of fun while grandma was in the kitchen and grandpa kept a stash of "monkey blood" or Methyolate (technical term) for an occasional skinned knee or elbow. Grandpa had a way of enjoying kids....I suspect it was because he had quite a big one inside himself!
I could tell stories about the men reclining in those metal scalloped chairs leaving indents in the ground after all their tall tales, fishing stories and adventures. The laughter would rise and fall as a part of the rhythm of that place and the world around it. I could also tell about the infamous outhouse that stood until around the 1970's sometime and how the cold winters and hot summers didn't offer time to stick around in there! It was all about getting business done and back to the important events of the day! I could list other memories such as grandpa's pet raccoon, Pete, hog stories, chicken tales and even one of my attempting to pluck a tail feather from a very large turkey. (That did not end so pretty as the turkey was not having it and the flogging I got taught me a new respect for those birds!)
There were horse stories, snake stories, mice in corn barrels whose end came when grandma conveniently dropped the barn cat inside and shut the lid! The most agonizing memory was when grandpa, dad and others had killed a hog to butcher and it was hanging on a post or tree. There was a big metal wash tub that the entrails were being dropped in as they went. I was wide-eyed and learning much when to my horror, I accidentally backed too close to the wash tub and fell in, plopping right down on warm, slimy pig guts. My surprised look got the attention of the men and as they rescued me from the steamy hog parts-and my own shock, there were endless chuckles and comments that continue today! That was an event none of us will forget - especially me!
...And yet...so many memories. So much the fabric of me. Such precious folks. A full, rich generation gone by...Till we meet again, grandma!
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Jo H.