Over the last few weeks I have participated in the Escambia County HCE Cultural Arts Show, the Blackcat Reunion, Sawmill Day, and the Baptist Missionary Association of America (in Rogers, Arkansas). In a few hours I will be off to the District 1 HCE camp in DeFuniak Springs. Hopefully, after that, I get to stay home for a while with no rushing around to make preparations for upcoming events.
This brings me to thoughts of what Ma and Pa (known to non family as Mary and Herbert Blackwell) would think of all this rushing around.
During my childhood they lived on a farm near Evergreen, Alabama. Their transportation was a mule drawn wagon. Most days were spent at home, working in the field and the garden, cooking and doing housework, with some time at the end of the day for sitting on the porch (which Pa called the pizzard) listening to the whippoorwills. The most frequent reason for hitching the mule to the wagon was the trip to church on Sunday. The mail was delivered to the box near the front of the house. The rolling store came by to sell most other necessities. There was very little reason to go anywhere.
My visits to their house were among the highlights of my childhood. I loved playing on their long front porch which stretched the length of the house, highlighted by the water bucket on the shelf at the end of the porch filled with cold water drawn from the well. I stepped off the porch onto a swept yard, no grass, just dirt swept by the yard broom. Since I loved to draw in the dirt that was my kind of yard. I spent many hours under the shade of the china berry tree drawing, writing and playing with china berries.
Turning to the right as I stepped off the porch led me to Ma's wash area. A cast iron wash pot sat over the place where a fire could be built. On wash day a number of wash tubs trailed from it. A fire was built under the wash pot, which was filled with soapy water. The other tubs were for rinse water. All this water was drawn from the nearby well and carried bucket by bucket to fill the tubs. The clothes were washed in the wash pot, then rinsed in each tub successively until they were deemed clear of suds. The last wash tub was left filled with water to be heated by the sun for baths later that evening. Wash day was great fun for a child. I suspect Ma and the water drawer did not enjoy the process as much as I did.
Past the well was the lot and the corn crib. I was not allowed in this area most of the time because Kit, the mule, was known to be temperamental and might kick. Since Pa had experienced kicks from Kit, he did not want the children to experience them.
The house was heated by fireplaces and lit with kerosene lamps. They had electric lights but Pa rarely allowed them to be turned on. He said they hurt his eyes. Cooking was done on a wood stove. Perhaps a hard life for my grandparents, it was a wonderful experience for me.
