*sigh* I'm loosing my touch. (Warning: Hi-jacked by Em)

Seriously, I don't know just how old I was when I took
a bath in an honest-to-goodness-store-bought bathtub.

As we didn't have indoor plumbing, my daddy didn't see much
need in a fancy bathtub. When we got that uppity, my parents
built a whole new room on the house, just for the tub, commode
and such fixings.

We took many a bath in the creek. Jumped in, right down to the
skin. We "air-dried" by running around naked in bottomland. Pretty
much stopped that by the time I was fixing to go off to college though.
Momma said college-boys don't do that. But really I think it was mostly
on account of some of the neighbors complaining. (We had us one of
them party-line telephones, and the things you would hear...well, make
me blush.)

But we had us a cow watering trough for the cold time baths. Us
getting a bath sorta depended on if the cows were thirsty or not that
day. Mom would make one of us boys go over in the cowpatch and get
it, drag it down to the creek and clean it up and then carry it to the kitchen.
Mostly on a Saturday, so we would be kinda clean for Sunday morning.



Spook...keeping it clean...keeping it clean.
 
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Oh Spook! Spook! That is way too much bathing!! And to let yourself get wet in the cold season is a terrible thing! Ack! The horror!

About indoor plumbing..... My baby sister went to see her in-laws for the very first time. In her honor, they built on a 'bath room'. They even got a tub for that new room! They filled up the tub, then let my sister bathe in private, after which every other family member got a turn in that same tub water. After the last person had bathed, all of the tub water was hauled out with buckets. :D

But don't worry....this all happened in the summer time, they are civilized people!
 
We did grow up with our own well right in the front
yard. Good water.

But cleaning the well out wasn't one of my favorite
jobs. Snakes, groundhogs, my brothers tricycle...
you never knew what you would find in the well.
(or what would find you) Finally getting too fat to
fit down the well was a good thing.

My baby brother...I think my parents liked him best.
He got a tricycle. I didn't have a tricycle. Time I was
big enough to ride a tricycle, my parents put me to
work in the garden, hoeing, weeding and such.

My third Christmas, Santa Claus brought me my own
hoe, rake...shovel.

I would of run away from home, but we lived so far back
in the holler there wasn't anywhere to run to.
 
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Now Alaskan...I think me and you might have to
have us a "biggest liar" contest. Sometimes I get
the notion that you're stretching the truth. And once
and a while, I've been known to tell a small one.

I think I could maybe possibly beat you.

It's Sour you gotta watch out for. He wins every time.
 
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Don't have to worry about the Bunny. Everyone knows I always tell the truth.
smile.png
 
We did grow up with our own well right in the front
yard. Good water.

But cleaning the well out wasn't one of my favorite
jobs. Snakes, groundhogs, my brothers tricycle...
you never knew what you would find in the well.
(or what would find you) Finally getting too fat to
fit down the well was a good thing.

My baby brother...I think my parents liked him best.
He got a tricycle. I didn't have a tricycle. Time I was
big enough to ride a tricycle, my parents put me to
work in the garden, hoeing, weeding and such.

My third Christmas, Santa Claus brought me my own
hoe, rake...shovel.

I would of run away from home, but we lived so far back
in the holler there wasn't anywhere to run to.
You cold have ran away to the barn and join the cows....
 

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