This blog is dedicated to the stories I've written over the years. Sometimes I get some time and add a story. Grab a hot cup of something and enjoy!

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Tuesday, January 11, 2011

If You Abuse it, You Lose it. - Fourteen


She cried hard as she made her way back to her cave. She couldn’t figure out why she felt so attached to the squalling little baby when she had only had her for less than one day. She knew she wasn’t able right now to properly care for Victoria, but she was determined to find all she needed to take care of Victoria. Leaving the baby had reminded her of just how alone she really was. Maybe she would like some friends after all Katie seemed really nice.

Once back home, she went through all the things that she had taken from her grandpa’s house and pulled out some soft rabbits furs that had not been made into anything yet. They were still supple and a soft white color. They would make a fine coat and moccasins for the baby. She went to work.

That darn goat was being stubborn, even though I had already taken her kid down to the sub-cellar!

“Come on, Strawberry! Half Pint is already down there and she wants her mommy!” I tried reasoning with the daw-gum goat! Poppy and I already had the two rabbits down there and our small flock of chickens which only numbered six. We had no other animals right now but this foolish goat. I finally decided to just drag her butt down there.

“Hurry Coon, we don’t have much time left, I can hear the beep of the meter that is monitoring by the back cellar door.” Urged Poppy. We had already stacked sand bags full of dirt five high across and around the back door but I was still having trouble with Shortcake.

“I think we should have named this goat Trouble Poppy, cause that is what she is being!” I exclaimed.

Poppy said “Look out below!” and then gave that ole goat a good shove in the butt with his boot! I just managed to step aside as she came barreling down those stairs.

I laughed so hard at the look on her face! And the squeal she made. I don’t think she was expecting anyone to come behind her.

I heard Poppy close the sub-cellar door and come down the steps. “Well, Coon,” he said “it looks like we are down here for awhile. Let’s get the critters comfy and fed and then ourselves.”

For the next hour or so that’s what we did.

Poppy sure done a good job on making this sub-cellar; it was just about the same width and length of the regular cellar but it had thicker walls and a real thick layer of dirt between the ceiling and the floor of the upper cellar. And it was divided into rooms, unlike upstairs which was just one big room with columns throughout it. We had one that was made for the critters with a smaller room off its side for plenty of hay bales and food. Then another door led to what we call the ‘peoples area’ with a living area and kitchen combined and a pantry off the kitchen side and a sleeping room with four bunks off the living room side. It was like a whole other house down here.

We turned on the TV, but one by one the channels went off the air. The local channel was the last to go. They were just broadcasting some repeating recorded message about how we were to take cover because the USA was being bombed. I didn’t really pay too much attention since I was helping Poppy get the place comfy. We had a jar of Granny’s homemade venison stew, drop biscuits with honey, and the one double handful of green beans we rescued from the garden. Poppy had said to not worry about getting anything from the garden just after I had grabbed them, because we simply didn’t have time to harvest everything but it was ok because we had plenty to see us through.

“I sure am glad I had the sense to store all our seeds down here, we might have been in some trouble next spring if I hadn’t” noted Poppy. “Some people don’t save seed and some of those that do, don’t save it properly. Now when I was a boy, we had some city slicker move onto the farm next to us, it already had crop of good wheat and corn in the ground. That city slicker not only didn’t dry his seed good after harvest but stored it in his barn!” Poppy and I both had a giggle over that one! I mean, didn’t everyone know that ya shouldn’t store seed in BARN? Fer cryin’ out loud!

“Came time to plant the next spring and that man had the nerve to come over and demand good seed from my daddy telling him that he should have explained how to store the seed. Well, my daddy sent him back home with the voice of his shotgun. I think that city slicker slinked back to the city that night.”

I just loved Poppy’s stories from his childhood.

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