These are among my first memories of growing up with my family in the rolling hills of north Georgia.
Some of my first memories are fields of cotton, me sitting on the tail end of Mama’s or Bertie’s pick sack while they dragged me between the rows of cotton. I remember the wagon at the edge of the field where they emptied the cotton out of their sacks. Daddy or granddaddy would lift me up in the wagon where they emptied the cotton. l’d burrow down in the cotton until I was picked up and sat on a pick sack again. I loved riding along between the cotton rows. I would reach out and pick a few fluffy bolls from the stalks as mama worked along the row.
Bertie was our step grandmother. Granddaddy had married her when our dad was about 14 years old. Mama wanted us to call Bertie grandma but granddaddy wouldn’t hear of it. He told her Bertie wasn’t our grandma that our grandma was dead. So she was always Bertie but she was a grandma to us.
We lived in the pasture across the creek from granddaddy. There were huge rocks scattered across the creek that we used for stepping stones. The water flowed swiftly around the stones and there was quick sand in parts of the creek. I remember sitting on a stone and watching the sand bubble up from the bottom. Small trees and bushes grew along the shady creek and it was a magical place to me.
Granddaddy and Bertie’s house faced the dirt road. It was a big two story white house. The upstairs rooms were empty and I liked to play in them and on the stairs. Bertie’s son who we called Dub would jump out at me and say boo. It was scary and exciting. I could never get enough and I loved Dub dearly. He was my hero.
The big barn was at the back of the house. It had two long rows of stables and a big hay loft. Granddaddy and daddy let me climb up in the loft with either of them when they went up to pitch hay down to the cows and mules. I could look out over the pasture, cotton fields, creek, and woods I was in my element standing in that loft looking out on my world. Granddaddy’s mules were ” Blue”and “Red”. Bertie’s cows were “Daisy” and “Buttercup.” I was a little afraid of the big farm animals but I loved the chickens. Bertie would fill her apron with shelled corn, cluck the chicken in and throw out handfuls of corn to them. Bending down she let me scoop out handfuls to help. The chickens would descend on us clucking and pecking. I remember jumping up and down, I was so happy and excited.
Our little house across the creek was the tenant house. It was unpainted and weathered gray. There were three rooms, a front porch, and a back porch. Our well was in the yard and we also had a shed and chicken pen. I could look out and see the pasture and cotton fields all around me.
I was the only child there until my sister Betty Sue was born
We went to my grandma and grandpa’s house when mama went into labor. They lived about a mile out the road in a three room log cabin. It was March and daddy went out in the yard to cut wood. I carried in wood, a stick at a time while he chopped. I caught my shoe string on a nail and fell down the steps. It knocked the breath out of me and daddy carried me in the house crying my eyes out. I was hurt,tired, and peevish. I wanted my mama and they wouldn’t let me go in the other room where she was.
Grandma came out and offered me peanut butter and crackers. I said I did not want it. I wanted the jar of peanut butter and a spoon the way my mama let me eat it. My poor daddy was so embarrassed at my behavior that he put me straight to bed. The house was full of neighbor women. They were going in and out of mamas room carrying things and speaking softly. The men were sitting on the front porch or hunkered down under the trees in the yard talking and sipping moon shine when I drifted off to sleep.
The next thing I knew it was daylight and daddy was telling me to wake up and see what mama had in the bed with her. He carried me to her bed and there lay a little baby sleeping on mama’s arm. I thought she was the most precious thing in whole world and she was ours.
Haha…memory brings you back to “sweet” tract…Nice reading this 
I agree with Maria Patricia… you must have lots of more memories to share. Ruby’s autobiography is coming soon! 
Lovely memories Ruby. Thanks for sharing them
This is a really great story. I really enjoyed reading this.
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