Larry (Installment 1)

INTRODUCTION

There are some things in my life that I do not remember. I believe I was born in a farmhouse where my mother and father were living at the time. She had worked out an agreement with her sister LaRue that they would help each other during the birthing process. I guess I will just have to take it on faith that what they tell me is true, because I just can’t remember.

I have written this in course of reminiscing about my past and where I am today. These things are presented from my view and may not be historically correct and may not represent some things I have chosen to eliminate out of embarrassment or regret.

Things that are presented here are generated by internally reminiscing and then regurgitating it in words. The original design of this document was to be chronological, but that has broken down during the progress over a period of years.

The Young Years

First Memories

I suppose the first things that I remember are the times when we lived in Manassa across the road from Maggie Weston. The house was a small three-room edifice where the 6 of us lived.

My First Remembered Home

It was a three-roomed edifice that was barely large enough for us to shoehorn into. The commodities were meager. The kitchen was the central gathering point when we were all at home. We would sit about the kitchen table and eat. That is also where we did a lot of the other activities that fall to a young family.

Bath-time came around a little less often when I was a child than it does now. The process of bathing was a little more complex. The water had to be heated next the oil stove that heated the house. If the water had to be warmed up a bit then water would have been heated on top of the wood stove in the kitchen. The tub was a circular tub that would be put on the kitchen floor then the water added to the tub. Privacy would be accomplished by restricting access to the kitchen. By the time the children were through with bath time, the water was close to opaque.

As evidence of the financial status of our family at the time, the outhouse stood as a symbol. I do not remember the interior decor or the finer features of the facility, but do remember that it was out back of the house and a short walk away. It was out there by the little sheds.

Out in the front yard was an apple tree that was the roost for the cat my cousin Larry White was watching. Soon he called to me to come see what was happening. The cat climbed up into a tree and while we were watching it it vomited a white foamy substance that went about 5 feet horizontally from the back of its widely opened mouth. It wasn’t long before the cat was lying dead on the ground. After some questioning of my mother about what had happened, we were informed that the cat probably died from being poisoned.

I bear a permanent mark on my left hip that was created at the old house. I was wearing a diaper in the kitchen and Donnie was moving some boiling water from the stove when by accident it was spilled on me and soaked up in my diaper. I was told that I screamed and they removed the diaper, which in turn pealed away some of the skin. The scar I have is not as noticeable now as it was when I was younger.