Word of the day: "Commandeered"
True Story
Long before I moved to the farm here, this property was owned by my Grandfather Charlie, Bigdaddy is what we all called him. I can remember as a youth spending entire summer vacations here while the majority of my childhood friends spent the summers doing BORING stuff like going to Disney World, or vacationing with thier family in Hawaii, you know stupid things like that. Not me though, heck no, give me the smell of freshly cut hay, working 8 hours in the hot Texas sun planting gardens, slopping the hogs, helping feed all the livestock, you know, good ol country living.
My Grandfather"Bigdaddy" wasunt "your dang right wasunt" is a real word,,, anyway, Bigdaddy wasunt a wealthy man in terms of his bank account, but his was the richest person I ever knew. Boy what I would give for just 1 more tractor ride through the pasture and down into the meadow with him. Or just 1 more bowl of his hand churnned homeade ice cream, or just 1 more game of dominoes before going to bed.
In 1990 at the age 89, Bigdaddy's health forced him to move into my parents home in Hunt county, about 70 miles west of the farm. For 2 years, the old house and barn lay vaccant, other than some owls who had made a nest in what used to be the old plowing mule "Nail's" favorite feeding stall, and a couple of stray cats that stayed under the front porch.
Well in 1992 all that changed. After 12 years of riding the range together, me and Mrs Longhorn came to the conclusion that we could no longer graze in the same pasture any longer, so Mrs Longhorn took the house in the city, (come to think of it, she took everything), and Longhorn here decided to plant some new roots in old familiar ground, my first Love, the farm, today known simply as Longhorn Ranch.
Now I might come off as a bit of a gruff, but dont be fooled, ol Longhorn here has a tender side as is evident by what happened 5 years ago. Only 2 times in my entire life have I been moved to tears
, one of those being when the first puppy I ever owned (Wuffums) got ran over by Mr. Barnett when I was 11 years old( I shot a hole through his window with a BB gun), and the other being when my Grandfather "Bigdaddy" died.
Now when you live as long as Bigdaddy did, a couple of things are certain, 1, your cemetary plot has been long paid for, and 2, most of your friends have either passed on or should have. Bigdaddys final resting place was in the Farmers Acadamy cemetary next to the Millsted family plot under a big old oak tree. Now as most of yall have kinda figured out, Longhorn here aint going to win any "Mr. Socialble Citizen" of the year awards anytime soon, but for this ONE day, I felt I owed it to Bigdaddy to be on my best behavior.
Growing up, I remember Bigdaddy telling me stories of how back in the old days, it was not unusual for there to be 7, 8, or even 9 or more siblings in a family, not because they were to stupid to know that babies come from playing "Park the tractor in the garage", but the reason for a large family was because living on a farm required alot of hard work, it was not a one man or woman job. And such was the case for Bigdaddy's family,,,, 9 brothers, and 2 sisters.
Of Bigdaddys NINE brothers, I remember only three of them. Samuel (uncle Sam), Virgil(uncle Virgil), and Bigdaddys youngest brother by 17 years, Millard(uncle Millard). At the time of Bigdaddys death, only Uncle Millard was still alive. I had only seen pictures of Uncle Millard because of the nine brothers, he was the only one that didnt have to work on the family farm, and was the only one to get a college education.
Yes millard was sent off to boarding school at an early age. Even as a teen I can remember Bigdaddy showing me old family photos and noticing something rather strange. All the other men in Bigdaddys family had dark brown hair, all except Uncle Millard. Now I dont have one single thing against people with RED hair, but you know the old phrase, Id rather be dead than RED on the head.. Anyway, Uncle Millard looked like the male version of Strawberry Shortcake. Whenever I asked Bigdaddy about this, he said he thought it might have something to do with when his mom used to deliver pecan pies to Mr. Morsels who lived across Sulphur Creek.
Anyway, where was I, Oh yes, the funeral. A very small gathering, soon as Pastor Billy Craig had finished reciting Psalm 23 and my neighbor Lula Allman played a stirring rendition of "Little brown church in the Wildwood" on the banjo, I placed my carnation on Bigdaddys casket and made my way to my Ford pick-up. Halfway between the truck and the pit graveled road that circled the cemetary I noticed a elderly gentlemen sitting on a rotting old bench overlooking the Elmer Barrett family plot.
As I pass by, the rather fragil, but neatly dressed old man grabs my arm. As I jerk away and resist the urge to thump his saggy ear lobe, he cries out... is that you Longhorn? I spit my chaw of tabacco out and said yes Im Longhorn, then the old timer takes off his hat and says, didnt your grandaddy tell you about me, Im your uncle Millard. As I mentioned earlier, I promised myself for this ONE day I would do my best to be on good behavior.
I said I remember Bigdaddy talking about you, and showing me your picture Uncle Millard, and before I could get the next word out he says to me...Please Longhorn, do me a huge favor, please just call me what Bigdaddy and all my other brotthers called me,,, just call me "Red". Not wanting to be rude I asked Uncle Millard--I mean "RED" if he would like to come by the farm for a cup of coffee. After very little small talk, Uncle Millard-- I mean "RED" ask me Loghorn, do you think we could ride down in the pasture so I could see the meadow your Grandaddy always talked about?
through the pasture, under the tressel, across the creek between the hay barn and the syrup mill, we make our way into the meadow. For five minutes neither of us speak a word, with tears running down his leathery cheeks, his says to me Longhorn, this ranch truely is heaven on earth. As we make our way to the very far southern end of the meadow Uncle Millard screams at me STOP. He jumps (more like crawls-falls) out of the pick-up, and points toward the small stream that seperates my property from Lulas place and Uncle Millard ( I mean RED) says to me Longhorn, do you see those Elk over ther getting a drink. I said what? He said those animals over there at the stream getting a drink, arent those Elk? I said no, those are just plain old everyday "Common-deer-Red". And then it rained.
Longhorn
This True story
is dedicated to my buddy Bobby 43.
Author
Topic: Word of the Day (Read 32613 times)