Mulling over my
childhood memories looking for blog material I came across these two
goodies. Both are from the time that I
was seven or eight and Jerry was five or six.
The back yard of our
house in Riverside was rather large. Our
father wanted to plant a vegetable garden.
In the way of that activity was a large patch of burr clover, reaching from
one side of the yard to the other. Jerry
and I were charged with removing the patch.
This we did by rolling it up like a carpet, pulling up individual roots
as they appeared. The subsequent garden
provided vegetables for many dinners.
One Easter Jerry and I
received a baby duckling. That
Thanksgiving we had roast duck for dinner.
I am not sure how I did not come to hate life on the farm after that.
1 comment:
We were raised hunters, that is my older brother and I. Our younger sister and much younger sister were horrified of that talent. We always digested what we hunted, from quail, doves, other birds and deer. For birds, my brother and I grew up with 410, 20 and later in our adult years,12 gauge shotguns. They were all single shot.
We knew that we had that one shot and made it count. For deer, I used an old bolt action WWII Japanese rifle, I believe 6.5mm. Later, I had an old .30 caliber carbine. Again, one shot that counted. My .22 caliber Mossberg for rabbit and squirrel hunting was semi-automatic and loaded from the butt of the stock. From 5th grade until high school, my job was to rid the 9 hole golf course of jack rabbits at night. Usually moon light in the Borrego desert was enough to see the rabbits munching on the greens.
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