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| Insecure Writers Support Group Blog Hop |
| #IWSGbloghop |
What is the Insecure Writer's Support Group?
Founded by author Alex J. Cavanaugh, the Insecure Writer’s Support Group offers support for writers and authors alike. It provides an online database, articles and tips, a monthly blog posting, a Facebook and Instagram group, Twitter, and a monthly newsletter.
To find out more, click here.
The purpose of the group is
* to share and encourage.
* Writers can express doubts and concerns
without fear of appearing foolish or weak.
* Those who have been through the fire can offer assistance and guidance.
*It’s a safe haven for insecure writers of all kinds!
You're invited to become a member of this supportive group.
Click here to sign up and/or to visit the bloggers this week.
Happy IWSG Day!
Welcome January 2025!
Hello and welcome to the January IWSG Blog Hop! I am looking forward to visiting many of my IWSG friends and meeting new IWSG bloggers!
Thank you for joining in on the fun.
The awesome co-hosts for the January 8 posting of the IWSG are
Thanks to our awesome co-hosts for the January posting of the IWSG: Rebecca Douglass, Beth Camp, Liza @ Middle Passages, and Natalie @ Literary Rambles!
January 8 question -
Describe someone you admired when you were a child. Did your opinion of that person change when you grew up?
Going back to when I was a child will take you back about 70 years. But even if it's been that long ago, I can still see Pat Snook. I'm not sure if I just admired him. I believe it was more like having a crush on this 50+ year old,hard-working farmer in Central Illinois, where I grew up.
My mom was a school teacher. During the school year, I was in daycare because I wasn't old enough to attend school. Pat and Maggie Snook, who had no children, babysat me during the week at their amazing farm. I often stayed overnight.
My family was in the funeral business, so when school was dismissed for the day, Mom would spend the evening "swinging door" at the funeral home during the visitations.
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| Outhouse Photo coutesy of D_Theodora |
I didn't mind. I loved staying at the farm, except for using the outhouse. The old farmhouse did not have a bathroom, so Maggie would come and sit with me to scare off the spiders and any other creatures that might want to visit. The smell was unpleasant, downright awful, and the wooden bench scratched my legs as they dangled above the gravel floor. I did not like using the outhouse!
Needless to say, I had to take baths in a galvanized tub. On warm days, Maggie would set the tub out on the screened-in porch which gave me a great view of the huge yard. Tall trees formed pools of shade on the green lawn on warm days. I splashed and played leaving most of the bath water all over the cement floor. On cold days, the tub stayed in the kitchen with the no splashing allowed rule.
I was Pat's favorite farmhand. The feeling was mutual. He was my favorite farmer. I dressed like him in denim overalls and a cap and followed him everywhere around the property. He'd lift me up on the tractor, then climb up and sit on the tractor seat so I could sit on his lap and ride around the field. I loved hearing the roar of the tractor engine, the smell of the exhaust, the jostling over the bumps and around the turns, especially when riding with my guy, Pat.
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| Farm cat Photo courtesy of AdinaVoicu |
I'd "help" milk the cows, but mostly watched in delight when Pat sprayed the milk from the teats directly at the kitties. They were good at catching the stream of milk in their mouths. I can still see their faces with drops of white in their whiskers and fur. But you know at the age of 4, I ended up playing with the kitties.
This kind man could turn crusty when I got out of line. I could see his unshaven face turn red under his beat-up cap. He used a gruff voice to let me know he was not pleased. My feelings would be hurt and I'd be ashamed when I did something that upset him, like not obeying his warning to never play in the huge piles of shelled corn. But we always made up with a hug.
The moments that stand out the most in my memory were nap times. Pat stretched out on the daybed, then I crawled up and snuggled up beside him. My big orange cat, Sugar Plum, hopped up on Pat's tummy. We all settled down and rested after a "hard" morning's work and big lunch.
I didn't see Pat and Maggie very much after I started school. But I remember thinking I wanted to be a farmer and to be his farmhand forever.
I loved going back to that innocent time on the farm. Thank you for suggesting this question for the month.
Did you grow up on a farm? Do you have memories when you were only 4 years old? Please leave a comment below.
Thank you for stopping in today! I'll be hopping about cyberspace visiting IWSG bloggers!
Click here to sign up and/or to visit the bloggers this week.
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9 comments:
What a great memory. Such a simple, innocent time...
That's such a sweet memory. Thanks for sharing it with us.
How sweet! I grew up on a family-only farm and enjoyed helping my father with the produce.
That was lovely. Thank you for sharing!
That's a wonderful story. Parts of it remind me of visiting my grandparents when I was young.
Sweet memories!
Yes. I adored Pat.
You're welcome. Thank you for stopping by,
I bet you have some sweet memories on your farm.
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