Chatty - beyond the shadow of a doubt...extreme heat is worse than extreme cold.

After all, one can always put on another layer of clothing but one can only get so nekkid!

I remember when I was a teenager and helping Mom can fruit and vegetables...we had a *tiny* little galley sized kitchen that would get toasty AND humid...just imagine those huge pots full of water and food jars...and Mom would strip to her undies. Not me though. The mere thought of a splash of boiling hot water on my body was enough to keep me clothed!

Now when I get too hot, I stick my hat and bandana in the livestock water trough and get them soaking wet...then put them back on my head and neck. That helps cool me off quickly. But a chaise lounge chair on the back porch with a glass of iced or cold "something" will help just as well.

It's miserable here in TN. Humid as all get out.

Hello Thistle Cove Farm,

You have interesting posts, so I looked at your profile. I see you are from Tazewell VA. My family lived there for a short time. It was a very negative experience because of the extreme poverty there. My parents did become friends with the Elswick family and stayed in touch with them after we left. We came there September 5, 1957 and left March 8, 1958.

My heart bled for the residents who were tenants on those Tazewell County farms. My Mom and Dad both worked 7 days a week for $2.00 a day until we left. Yes, a family of seven lived on $14.00 per week. Often, we went hungry. Thank God Daddy had a gun, because we ate a lot of rabbits back then. A widow woman named Kathryn Bowen told my Mom that if she'd milk her two cows, she could have half the milk. Thanks to her, we had a lot of suppers of cornbread and milk. We girls always had lunch, unlike some of the children at school. I remember heating one can of potted meat to stain bread for sandwiches for myself and my sisters. I helped the Principal/teacher Mrs. Jackson, at Cove School, serve peanut butter and jelly or cheese sandwiches to children who did not have lunches. I was too proud to ask for them, but how I wish I could have eaten those sandwiches instead of the stained potted meat sandwiches!

I remember feeling so sorry for the Crigger boys who came to school barefoot.

We lived in a little house on the Brown farm that was across a small river with a swing bridge. That winter, when Mom mopped the floor, the mop water froze on the floor although there were two stoves with wood fires. Snow blew in the attic bedroom where my sisters slept. When I went with Mom to the spring to help get drinking water, my Mom had to break the ice with an axe to get our drinking water. Most of the time, the water froze at night on the bench in the kitchen.

I hope people are living better in Tazewell County nowadays.

Boom,
Sounds like a difficult way to grow up. It probably makes you very appreciative of the conveniences of the twenty first centure.

I hope the houses of your childhood were warmed with a love so strong that it permeates your life today.
smile

Hello Boom Boom and thanks for the nice compliment.

Please allow me to correct you...I am NOT from Tazewell County; it's where I now live, true, but I am not FROM Tazewell County. My husband's mothers' family, the Bowens, settled this area in the mid 1700's. To be more exacting, they, IMHO, stole this land from the original occupants. A point on which my MIL and I continually and constantly disagree...especially since some of my Daddy's people married with American Natives. I tell my MIL, "my people met your people when your people were run out of Great Britain." Alas, she is not amused but then, neither am I...much. One thing that's at odds with my comments...in my immediate family I alone do not have the American Native "look". I've light hair, eyes and skin and as fey as the Irish who spawned me.

I do know the Elswick and Brown families; there are still residents in this valley of both families. I do know who Kathryn Bowen was; she's now deceased but was a lifelong friend of my MIL. I can see the "new" brick Cove School, now the Cove Community Center, from my front porch but the Crigger name is unfamiliar to me.

As to the abject poverty, that was normal for Appalachia. My Daddy was born and raised in WV and they, the boys then living at home, would take a hot rock to bed with them -yes, they all slept in the same bed because it was the best way to keep warm - because their farmhouse only had one fireplace - downstairs - and a wood cook stove in the kitchen. When they awoke they would carry their clothes downstairs and dress in front of the fireplace. Daddy grew up on a hardscrabble farm and they grew a garden, raised sheep, a milk cow, killed a cow and pigs in the autumn, had honey bees and so forth. IMO, the difference between where Daddy lived and here, is that here, in Tazewell County, there are *large* land grant farms who relied on farm labor and, in a few cases, slave labor. Most of the farms in our valley had a few slaves but the Bowen's freed their slaves prior to the War Between the States. Other land owners did not.

As to your last comment...some people are living better and others are not. That's the way it is all over this country...the line between the rich and the poor is a harsh one. With minimum wage being $5.15 an hour, it's a wonder to me more folks don't die of poverty.

Dave and I hire people to help us, both on the farm and in the house, and I've told Dave, there are folks who would, literally, kill to work here. We pay well, extremely well, and we tend to help out folks as and when we can. We also treat people with dignity and respect and have had farm laborers eat at our table with millionaires. Come to think of it, that's probably why the millionaires haven't come back. We treat people as children of God and afford them all the respect due them as God's children. We've also cut off people who have mistreated/stolen, etc. from us and don't feel the need to apologize for doing so.

Yes, most farm labor still receive miserable wages but they do *ALL* over the country; it's not a problem that's peculiar and particular to Tazewell County. Farm labor is "rated" differently according to the federal government and, therefore, not subject to the same laws that govern other businesses. Yes, here farm labor still receives housing as part of their "package" but the men still work dangerous jobs for low wages. Some of the farm owners work right alongside their farm labor while other land owners wear clean clothes.

Our farmhouse was built by Master Carpenter Thomas Hawkins who was employed by a Mr. White, an Ohio carpet bagger who bought this place for $300 in back taxes. In the late 1940's, it was sold to the Gillespie family and we bought it in the mid 1990's. The first year we lived here I would shovel snow from inside the house to the outside. We had torn the walls down to the studs and used R-19 insulation covered with 6 mil plastic. We torn down the walls so we could put in electricity and central heat and plumbing. If we could get it up to 50 degrees F, we celebrated and the winter of 95-96 was one of the coldest on record, if not *the* coldest. One January morning our back porch thermometer read minus 35 degrees F. There were a *lot* of people who felt sorry for Dave and I but we felt, and still feel, we were, and are, living a grand adventure. That same winter we would have to break ice before using the bathroom and I still break ice in the winter so the horses and sheep can drink. Farm life is a HARD HARSH life...everyone reading my post...say a prayer for farmers who bring the world food and clothing...frequently for low pay...yes, even some of the farmers receive low wages...and, usually, no benefits such as health, retirement, etc.

In Tazewell County, as with the rest of this country...some people live well and others live poorly.

Your post was interesting and I thank you for writing. I hope days are happier for you now.

Thanks for sharing your experiences, TCF. My family had moved from WV, also, but my Daddy was a coal miner looking for a better life. We left Tazewell County to live on a dairy farm in Franklin County VA where Mom and Dad worked together for $160.00 per month plus the house package. It was a nicer house, and we children learned to like farm life pretty well. I was always afraid of cows, but my sisters took to them right away. In fact, they helped milk Mrs. Bowen's cows in Tazewell County. Once, when I walked past them, a sister squirted milk on me from an udder. Then, there was the time I was afraid to cross the swing bridge because there were a bunch of cows waiting on the other side. Mom, concerned that I hadn't come home from school on time, finally came to my rescue. She assured me that the cows thought I was going to feed them.

I remember Kathryn's son named Billy Barnes Bowen who had a beautiful horse named Champagne. I loved to watch Champagne run. I finally got up the nerve to visit some farm horses in a stable and hand them some grass or hay. They were in stalls, however.

Some one told me that Billy Barnes had become a professor at Ferrum College where my son got his degree.

Have you written anything about your life? If so, I want to read it!

Thistle and boom, Your posts are a peek into a life I've never lived. I guess I'm a city slicker in comparison. I'm enjoying your psots. Keep them coming. I feel like such a seakling in comparison. WOW. Thistle, your lifestyle always amazes me. What a blessing you are to all those who work for, with, and around you on the farm. I love your spirit.

Boom, I'm with you. No thanks to the cows. I'm sorry, but they smell...and I don't like having to hold my nose. I tell ya...I'm a wimp.

What is a seakling?

seakling - a city slicker who constantly "seeks" new ways to be strong as opposed to weak. Correct spelling is seekling
lynn, we bad!!!

chick

[ July 27, 2005, 09:04 AM: Message edited by: chickadee ]

Chatty: bless your heart for being so caring and helping pets and the elderly. It's a blessing to listen to their hard-earned wisdom.

Thistle and Boom Boom, wow! Interesting life and times! Aren't we glad for the many blessings we now enjoy! I certainly thank God for farmers that work so hard and for so little. They endure so much! It's a life I've only heard of!