Country Living, Corn-Picking Time, And a Taste Of City Life

 by Laurean Brooks

When you're a child from a large family and live on a farm, every season has its unique chores. October meant corn harvest time for us. The nights became cool and crisp, making sleep near an open window feel like a piece of heaven after the humid summer nights.

After the old rooster crowed at the crack of dawn, Mama would rise, start a fire in the wood stove, then start on breakfast. The delicious aromas from the kitchen pulled us kids out of bed and to the table. 

Every morning Mama mixed flour, lard and milk in a large granite-wear bowl. She would form a well in the middle of the flour, fill it with a little milk and lard, then gradually pull flour from the sides of the bowl into the mixture until it was thick enough to roll out on a board. 

She had her own unique rolling pin—a round, floured ketchup bottle. After she'd cut out the biscuits with a metal drinking cup, she placed each biscuit in the white 9 X 12 enamel pan, plus a large iron skillet. If any biscuits were left after supper, the dogs gulped them down.

It took a lot to feed our brood. When Mama added scrambled eggs from our hen house and poured thick milk gravy over our cat-head biscuits, it eased the news of...

“Y'all count on picking corn when you get in from school. It's ready.” The words didn't sound half as bad.

When we got home, my brother Ralph, fueled up the old Farm-all tractor then hitched the two-wheel trailer to it. 

When that was done, he inserted the hand crank and yanked until the old tractor puffed smoke from its stack like a locomotive.

We kids tugged on work gloves before climbing up on the trailer for a jostling ride toward the field. Once we reached the cornfield, we hopped off and began yanking corn from the dried stalks. We worked until it was too dark to see, or until the the trailer spilled over. Whichever came first.

If it was a weeknight, Daddy and Mama unloaded the trailer the next day while we attended school. We'd come in that afternoon, eat a quick supper and start picking again. It took several days and the same number of trailer loads, to pick the three cornfields clean.

When the last load was piled into the corn crib, we knew the chickens would have enough feed to last until next year's harvest.

 Every morning before school, Jewell (my sister) and I shelled several ears to toss to the chickens. I remember how we looked for the driest ears with shriveled corn and shelled it first. Because the ears that were not yet shriveled were hard to shell and rough on the hands.

Being raised on a farm meant everyone had to do his or her part to keep it running. I remember thinking, “When I grow up, I'll move to the city so I won't have to work this hard.” 

But one week as a teen spent with city cousins in Jackson, Tennessee, changed my mind.

My sister and I had a blast for six days. We went to a roller rink on Saturday night, and walked a few blocks to Mrs. Sullivan's Pecan Pie factory, where you could go on Tuesdays and purchase a paper bag of ten slightly smashed, personal-sized pecan pies for a quarter. Still, city life had a downside.

The downside was our cousins' house sat at an intersection on a very busy street. I'm a light sleeper. Screeching brakes, loud trucks, honking horns, and sirens kept me awake every night as they pulled up to the stoplight. After 6 nights of the horrible racket, my mind was screaming for the peace and quiet of the country. The hoot of a nigh owl, croak of tree frogs and the chirp of katydids.

What about you? Do you prefer the country or the city?

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He wanted a sedate, mature woman who could cook and care for his young daughter. She expected an exciting cowboy who thrived on travel and adventure. 

Both were in for a surprise.

https://www.amazon.com/Ryans-Reckless-Bride-Matchmakers-Mix-Up-ebook/dp/B094Q9XXRB/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=ryan%27s+reckless+bride&qid=1632001584&s=books&sr=1-1

CHASING RABBIT TRAILS by Laurean Brooks

 

A leisurely nature walk with my dogs this morning gave me pause to rethink the past months. As Leo and Spence dashed through the woods on a winding path, splashing through the streams and leaping over fallen trees in search of a long-gone rabbit, I noticed similarities between their adventure and the distractions that send me down my own personal rabbit trails.

With noses to the ground, the dogs followed the scent down twisting trails, reminding me of things that have distracted me, upset me, or diverted my focus from more important matters. I've allowed these concerns to divert me from my purpose and lure me onto rabbit trails.

As spring approaches, I struggle between commitments and schedules, and the desire to take time for recreation. It isn't always easy to get back on track once you veer off.

For me, the best cure for scattered thoughts is a nature walk in the woods intertwined with communion with my Creator. While I sit on a log, close my eyes and soak in the sounds of a babbling brook, the croaking of tree frogs and the happy chirp of birds, a calm engulfs me. Within a few minutes, I regain the solace I need and return home refreshed and with a lighter heart.

Quiet moments of contemplation, and communion with the Creator is like a healing balm. His presence brings calm and true peace, and directs me back to the right path.

Have you found yourself chasing rabbit trails? How did you refocus your thoughts and reset your priorities? Share the tips that lead you to a time of refreshing.

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What would YOU do if you were a Western mail-order bride in 1884 and arrived in Abilene, Texas to meet your groom only to discover him at the altar exchanging vows with another?

Emily falls off the church porch and into the arms of  handsome rancher Clint McCall, as the frantic bride flees the church, shoving the bouquet into Emily's midsection. 

Clint feels responsible for Emily's twisted ankle and takes her to his ranch to treat it. How can she refuse to become nursemaid to his ailing mother, since all her money is gone?

Will the two-timing groom find Emily and make her keep their agreement, since his first bride fled? What will Clint do when he discovers Emily came to town to as a mail-order bride? Emily plans to tell him, until she discovers his disgust for ladies who resort to that.

https://www.amazon.com/Half-Price-Bride-Laurean-Brooks-ebook/dp/B089WJX671/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3R2CAA8HVHLYH&dchild=1&keywords=half-price+bride%2Flaurean+brooks&qid=1608738275&s=books&sprefix=Half-Price%2Cstripbooks%2C311&sr=