Monday, October 15, 2007

Jack, Jill , That Hill, The Bull; and Why Water is Necessary

When I was a little girl I spent many a wonderful summer day with my cousin Butch.

My brother and I, along with my cousin Butch would play Cowboys and Indians, climb trees, and spend our mornings damming
up Uncle Andy's creek so we could swim and catch crawfish. Uncle Andy was our Granny's uncle. He had been married four times, each time to a lady who had the name Mary.

That is another story in itself since Andy lived to be 99.

Our granny lived up the dirt road from Uncle Andy. She and Poppa Coy had a log cabin, lots of fruit trees, chickens, some hogs (I loved the little piglets) and of course, a big garden patch. There was no electricity in the cabin, no running water nor was there indoor plumbing. She had a big two seater johnny out back. Perhaps that was where I learned my fear of spiders.

But that is another story.

We always were mindful of the bull at Uncle Andy's. He always stood under a tree on the big hill way far up on the property. To get to the creek, we had to pass through the pasture, watching our step for cow patties with one eye and the other eye always on the bull. One summer day, after a particularly satisfying time sliding from the big mossy rock in the middle of the creek into the cool water, we began our journey back home. Coming out of the thicket, into the pasture we surveyed our position and that of the bull. Certain that he was oblivious to us, we started trudging along, our soggy, slick clothes sticking to us - I remember how good that cold
felt on such a hot day. The boys were always ahead of me, always trying to lose me, a tagalong interloper that was a stinking GIRL.

The bull noticed us this time. Probably because the boys were jumping up and down, hooting and hollering all at the top of their lungs. Perhaps he was merely curious about us - in retrospect, I choose to think that.

However, when the boys saw him coming down the hill at a fairly good clip, they screamed RUN! Looking for the bull under the tree, it registered in my brain that he was heading our way. I began running down the hill as fast as my fat little legs could carry me. I declare I could feel his breath snorting down my neck! I slipped in a particularly fresh pile and lost my footing. I rolled down the rest of the hill, much like Jack and Jill. After I scrambled back to my feet, I saw the boys with Uncle Andy leaning against the gate post. They were laughing. Winded, wet from the creek, stained from head to toe with grass and fresh manure, I surely must have been a sight. I didn't stop running until I was under the fence and standing behind Uncle Andy.
The bull was standing back under the tree. It appears that he lost interest in us fairly quickly and trudged back up the hill to his shady spot to watch this blonde headed gal in pig tails roll through the muck all the way down that hill.

That story is still legend on the Hill. I have put enough years behind me to find it mildly amusing these days. Butch still finds it rather hilarious. He took relish in sharing that particular story of my youth with Larry this past weekend. We had need of Butch - he has a backhoe and we had a fierce break in our water line. All weekend he and Larry dug a new trench and laid the line, finally connecting the new pipe and restoring my sanity. Butch regaled my big man with every story that I had almost forgotten from those lazy summer days. How nice it would be to return to those halcyon days, hiding away from the world in the dreaming tree, watching the rain walk up the road, sitting out back snapping beans with my granny once more, and never wondering how I am going to pay a $1200.00 water bill.

my cousin Butch


Dixie Redmond said...

Aw, what a great story. And Butch looks like a character. Come to think of it, I think you must come from a Clan of Characters. :-)

Dontcha just love running water...until your water line breaks, that is. ;-) Been there with that one, Blondie.


Amy Wagner said...

I loved this story!!

I also have a cousin named Butch...but he noe prefers to be called John now that he's grown. He is my Uncle John's son named John (or Butch, as he will forever be to me. He is my cousin Barry's brother. Cousin Barry with the web sites listed in my "Family Links" in my margin.

Again, Blondie...I loved your story!! It kind of rememinded me of a story book I have always loved called The Story Of Ferdinand the Bull. He looked ferocious but prefered to lie in the shade and smell the flowers.


carol said...

Great story as I am born and raised CITY GAL. Those things you called Bulls were what I read and saw in "pictur books".

Hey, Does Butch ever volunteer to be Santa Claus? He would look good and appears to be "jolly"

enjoy Carol

Q said...

Dear Blondie,
I have been enjoying your stories this morning. Getting to know you and your family as I read old posts and sip my morning coffee.
I have laughed many times!
It is great getting to know you.

Cathy Nash said...

Blondie, Hilarious! I remember running from our neighbor's giant dog like that--to me he was as big as a bull.
You're a great storyteller.
Have a great day,

Jeannene said...

"you are too toot'in cute i tell you...i just enjoyed your childhood story, so much!!" You should write stories like Laura Ingalls Wilder, so these stories could be passed down generation to generation.

"Thank you so much for your touched my little heart!!"

whimseycreations said...

Loved the bull story Blondie! I can remember going to an uncle's farm for family gatherings when I was little and we had to watch out for cow patties too. But don't remember having ever run from any bulls! I can just picture you though LOL

Katie said...

Great story! But OUCH, that water bill! Water's extra precious in NC these days too.

chaos said...

great story and wonderful blog

Country Morning Crafts said...

Great Blog Blondie! I really enjoyed it! Thanks for all of your help getting me started and for adding me to your blog!

CraBBy GaBBy said...

I love the way you relay your stories, it is so very vivid and in my minds eye I see it all, as if I was there....
To be a kid! It sounds as if your childhood was grand!

DAMdesigns said...

Wow what a hefty waterbill! I hate that things are so expensive, its impossible to just totally enjoy life because its so hard to take care of things!

Great story though, I wonder how long the bull actually chased you before turning around. =D I will be back for more!

Lorraine said...

You tell the best stories, Blondie:o)!
That is such a shame about your water line...**HUGS**

Donna said...

Wonderful story! Reminds me of Ferdinand, The Bull. I read it in the 1st grade and have never forgotten it.

Bettsi McComb said...

Oh, Blondie! What a great story! Even though you can't go back, you are so blessed to have people in your life that know all those good stories! I have only my brother and he has only me to remember each other as children. It's more important than you might think.

Suzanne said...

I loved reading your story Blondie! And I'm so glad you have water again!

red tin heart said...

I was real close to my cousin Linnie growing up, but we never see each other anymore. I miss him so much. xoxo Nita