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Last updated: July 21. 2014 1:50PM - 164 Views
By - striplett@civitasmedia.com



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Usually at some point in the summer I receive some inspiration to write about my old adventures on the farm. Summers were usually pretty good, no school, maybe some Little League games, plenty of farm chores to keep you busy and some down time to have plain old fun.


This past weekend was yard sales weekend in Georgetown. My son had a house full and three or four families pitched in on his big sale. One of my many jobs for this big sale was to help keep track of the granddaughter. This really wasn’t a chore as she has large yard, secured, and she knows not to run out into the street.


As with most yard sales, stuff comes out of attics, sheds, garages and is dusted off to put on sale. Jocelyn, my granddaughter, told her grandmother it was just really sad seeing all these things go. I have to laugh, her grandmother generally feels the same way, she doesn’t like to part with any of her old toys either.


But Jocelyn was bouncing from front yard to back, there was plenty of activity to keep her body active and mind engaged.


One of the things her daddy pulled out of the shed was her old kiddie pool. So I rinsed that sucker out and filled it with water for her to jump into later when the sun had warmed the water. She must have asked a hundred times, “when can I jump in the pool?”


Finally her daddy said she could stand in it.


“But don’t get your clothes wet, we will put your bathing suit on later when it warms up,” he said.


Well she got out and then got back in and she slipped. It was an honest mistake, too many people were talking to her. So she had to go change. When she finally was allowed to get in she had the biggest time in that little pool.


Kids just love to play in the water. I know we did.


They also love running around in their bare feet, riding their bikes, playing in the sand or dirt and chasing lightning bugs.


We were no different on the farm. I don’t ever remember my younger brother wearing shoes (or a shirt for that matter). When evening came it was time to slow down, at least on the weekends. That meant sitting under the shade tree, in later years reading the local newspaper, and waiting for the lightning bug show to begin.


We always had dad poke holes in the top of a jar lid so they wouldn’t die. We would run around that yard nabbing what we could. It was a fun time.


Kids still enjoy this today. I am sure lightning bug hunting methods are passed down from generation to generation.


We had a small greenhouse so we always would plant plenty of tomato plants. Consequently dad would park his truck down by the road and we would sell baskets of them off the back of his truck for a dollar. By today’s standards, that’s a pretty good deal!


We’d hear a car door or a honk of the horn and go wait on them. Invariably it would be someone from out of state admiring our tobacco patch. Many had never seen tobacco that close and our patch was right on US 52. I can’t tell you how many pictures were taken of us in our summer attire (just a pair or cut off shorts) in front of the tobacco patch. Typically they would ask for a tobacco leaf. We didn’t know what to say, I can remember thinking “who would want that yucky old stuff?”


When we were older we would ride our bicycles around on the creek and go swimming. Some of you might know Ronny Richards, we would tool right by his place waving as we went by. By the time we got to the swimming hole we were hot, so it was very refreshing. Dad he would usually come get us in the pickup truck when it was time to go home. We jumped in the back along with the bikes.


Our county fair was in August. We lived a good ways from the fairgrounds in Lucasville, but I remember about six to eight of us piling into the back of a pick up truck and enjoying an evening at the fair. The ride home was generally cold. You couldn’t do that today.


Times have changed today, but some things haven’t, like bare feet and lightning bugs.


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