PLEASANT VALLEY DAYS

by William B. Grove

                       

Pleasant Valley

First Grade Class of 1934

Billy is second from left in the first row
(photo can be enlarged by clicking on it)

    "Yowee!" Margie yelled as she raced down the mountain. She sidestepped mesquite and prickly pear cactus as she ran. She expertly jumped over a dead tree trunk lying in her path and at the same time looked over her shoulder. Poco Loco was right behind her, his horns tilted forward and aimed at Margie's skinny backside.
    "Yowee!," she yelled again and increased her speed. Her red curls bobbed like springs. Her body knifed between two juniper bushes as she reached the level stretch of ground that extended for about two hundred yards in front of the big tent.  Margie kept her eyes on Eddie who was about fifty yards ahead of her. His legs speedily carried him toward the tent. Suddenly he veered in the direction of Grandma Hearn's chicken coop.

   "No! No!", Margie screamed. "Go through the tent flap."     Eddie obeyed and disappeared into the darkened tent. 

   Margie could hear Poco Loco's snorting, heavy breathing and the clomp of his hoofs as the old bull maintained his pace narrowing the gap between them, his head lowered for attack as Margie flew through the tent flap with Poco Loco right behind her. There was a ferocious bellowing from the old bull as the center support pole shuddered and collapsed dragging the canvas down with it. In an instant the brown canvas was jerking and stretching in all directions as the two terrified children and the enraged bull charged from one side of the collapsed tent to the other.

   The former serenity of a country morn was destroyed with the screams of Margie and Eddie and the snorting and bellowing of Poco Loco. 

    Grandpa Lindley and Uncle Button came running from the front porch of Grandpa's house where they had been installing a new chain on Grandma's porch swing. They had witnessed the race to the tent but were helpless to head off the angry bull.
    Uncle Button sprinted ahead of Grandpa and reached the tent first and quickly found the flap and bolted through the opening. Grandpa, right behind Uncle Button, lifted the flap just as Uncle Button heaved Margie and Eddie, both bawling loudly, through the flap opening telling them, "You kids get to the house,."
   Aunt Nettie and Grandma, on the run, passed Eddie and Margie going in the opposite direction and yelled, "You kids get in the house and stay there till we help catch that bull."
    Aunt Nettie and Grandma could see where the bull was by the heaving and pitching of the tent canvas so they ran and jumped on the canvas on either side of Poco Loco, stretching the canvas taut.
    About that time, Cousin Mina and Rosalie Turner, Mina's best friend, jumped on the canvas at his head and tail which resulted in a four way stretch of the canvas that held old Polo Loco in place. Since Grandma, Aunt Nettie, Mina and Rosalie were all rather on the fat side, Poco Loco had just about met his match.
    While the four ladies were heaving around on the canvas due to Polo Loco's bucking and kicking, Grandpa Lindley ran to the old Ford truck. Luckily the wooden side boards were still in place from the wood cutting trip day before yesterday. He jumped in the cab and turned the key in the ignition and for once the old jitney started right up. He spun the truck around, put her in reverse and backed up to the tent flap. As he looked over his shoulder, out through the rear cab window, he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the four fat women flopping around on the canvas like four old roasting hens who had just had their necks wrung.
    Grandpa got out of the truck and he and Uncle Button ran over to the cellar and lifted the door up and carried it to the truck. Grandpa laughed as he let the tail gate down on the truck and said, "By gum, I knew there was a reason why I never got around to replacing the hinges on that old door after they rusted off".
    He and Uncle Button laid one end of the door up against the end of the bed of the truck and let the other end rest on the ground creating a ramp up which they hoped to coax Poco Loco.
    Grandpa yelled at the women, "Can you gals tell which end is his head?"
    Aunt Nettie replied, "Yeah, it's at the end where Rosalie is".
    "Okay. Button". Grandpa said. "You crawl in there under the canvas and see if you can get past where Rosalie's sitting and grab the ring in the old devil's nose."
    Uncle Button ducked through the flap and pretty soon a soothing voice was heard to say, "Okay, pretty boy. Come on to daddy now and let's go home. You've had just about enough excitement for one day. Come on feller."
    "Now Rosalie you get out from in front of him." Grandpa said.
    As Rosalie crawled aside, the big mound under the canvas moved toward the flap and all at once Uncle Button emerged through the opening leading the bull by the nose ring. Grandpa, kneeling on top of the truck cab, tossed one end of a heavy chain to Uncle Button who fastened it to the nose ring. Grandpa then pulled on the chain and before you could bat an eye old Polo Loco was in the truck bed
imprisoned by the side boards as Uncle Button pulled the cellar door ramp away and Mina and Rosalie pulled up the tailgate and fastened it. Uncle Button got in the cab of the truck and started it. With Grandpa still sitting on the top of the cab holding the chain, Uncle Button headed the truck toward the corral.

    "My stars," Aunt Nettie sighed. "What a mess. How will I ever get this all cleaned up for the square dance tonight? Half the valley's coming, you know."
    "Never you mind, Nettie", Grandma said. "Can't think on that now, We got to get over to the house and check on them youngins' and make sure all this ruckus didn't addle their brains."
    With that they started toward the house. As they stepped up on the front porch they spied Margie and Eddie cowering on the old three quarter bed on the porch looking like two dying calves in a hailstorm.
    "Are you kids hurt?", Nettie asked.
    "We don't know", they whispered in unison.
    "Well, come here and let me check you over", Nettie replied.
    Margie and Eddie got off the bed and came over for inspection.
    Nettie took Margie in hand while Grandma grabbed Eddie. After a million questions it was decided no serious damage had been done.
    "Well, I do declare you youngins' are lucky. A bruised ear and a skinned elbow is not much considering the mess you all caused. What in tarnation were you kids doing to that old bull anyway?" Nettie asked.
    "Nothin", Eddie said pouting, ducking his head to avert Aunt Nettie's stare.
    "It was all his idea anyway", Margie whined. "I told him we shouldn't do it."
    "Do what", Grandma questioned, raising her voice.
    "Well, we were just playing a game like Miss Olabeth told us about." Eddie said.
    "Now what kind of game did Miss Olabeth tell you about that would end up knocking Nettie's and Button's tent down?" , Grandma asked, impatience in her voice.
    "We're studying Mexico in geography and she told us about when she went there one time." Eddie offered.
    "Yeah, Margie added, "She told us about going to a bull fight and how this guy waves this red cape at the bull and all that kind of stuff."
    "So what did you kids do?", Nettie asked,
    "Oh, well, we didn't do nothin' but wave those old red flannel drawers of Grandpa's for just a little bit at Polo Loco and he got mad", Eddie excitedly related.
    "Yeah, but how'd he get out of the corral?", Rosalie asked, anxious to get in her two cents worth.
    "Well, it sure wasn't going to be any fun just running around in that little old corral, so I asked Margie to open the gate after I got him good and mad with Grandpa's drawers", Eddie continued.
    "I'll swear you kids are going to be the death of us yet", Grandma said angrily. "I'll be so glad when your ma has that new baby and we can send you back home to Phoenix. I'm just too old for these shenanigans anymore".
    "Do we have to go to bed ?", Eddie asked.
    "No, you're not going to bed. You both get over there to the tent. You're going to help all of us ready things up. You know your Aunt Nettie's having half the valley to the square dance tonight as a thank you for so many folks helping her and Button get their new house ready over on Cherry Creek", Grandma said as she began to cry, adding, "We've tried to tell you kids that these are depression times. No one's got any money and everybody tries to help each other. That's why the folks in the valley been helping Button and Nettie so they won't have to live in a tent no more but can have a honest-to-goodness wood house from scrap lumber Button's been collecting for nigh onto three years. No telling how much ruination you kids caused over there in the tent. Now get out of here and get over there and help clean up that mess.
    Well, the women spent a good portion of the afternoon readying up the tent while Grandpa Lindley and Uncle Button started nailing up a good sized wooden platform for the square dance. Margie and Eddie just kinda' stood around on first one foot and then the other with nobody payin' any mind to them. After a few hours the tent was slick as a whistle and the wooden platform had been waxed up for the dancin' and soon the Hindoo's, as the valley folks called themselves for no reason anybody could think of, started to show up. Soon the fiddlers showed up and started to "rozzin" up their bows and get all ready for the wingding.
    Aunt Nettie was sweatin' over the wood cook stove and the big cauldron with the makins' boiling in it for the taffy pull later on. Margie's big ole' black cat, Midnight, jumped up on the table next to the stove and Aunt Nettie never missed a beat as she hit the cat in the head with the big spoon, stuck it back in the cauldron of boiling taffy and sang:

"Fly in the buttermilk,

Shoo Shoo Shoo

Fly in the buttermilk

Shoo Shoo Shoo

Fly in the buttermilk

Shoo Shoo Shoo

Skip to my Lou my darlin. 

If you can't get a red bird

A blue bird will do

If you can't get a red bird

A blue bird will do

If you can't get a red bird

A blue bird will do
 Skip to my lou my darlin'

Addendum To GODS BOUQUET

Writer friends of mine informed me that the AREA AGENCY ON AGING FOR ARIZONA was having a contest for seniors to submit short stories; poetry, photography and art. Winners would be announced in each category and there would be a reception for the winners and their invited guests.

I immediately began to think of something that I could write and place in competition. Since the sponsor was affiliated with the aging population I decided my subject should be about "oldsters" and what better subject than my fondly regarded deceased grandparents. I started jotting down all the things I recalled about them and the story Grandma actually told me regarding her thoughts about a bouquet God would gather, came back to my mind. Thus, my storyline was determined.

The story was completed and submitted and in the short story category I was awarded 2nd Place. The reception was lovely and was attended by many. All of the winning submissions were compiled in a lovely hardback purple cloth bound book with gold lettering on the cover. The book sold for $25 at the reception as a fund raiser and each of we award winners were given a FREE copy.

Even to this day I love the PREFACE of the book.

"Youth is the time for adventures of the body,
but age is for the triumph of the mind."
Logan Pearsall Smith


"A man has perished and his body is gone.
All his relatives have crumbled to dust.
It is his writing and art that keeps him remembered.
EGYPTIAN SCRIBE 2,000 B.C.

GOD'S BOUQUET

Lillie Oquila Pruit born March 30, 1885 Montague County, Texas

William Thomas Lindley born August 11, 1882 Taylor County, Texas

William and Lillie married September 22, 1904 Monument, New Mexico

The small green house on Henshaw Road was trimmed in white. Two rocking chairs sat on the front porch. The inside of the house always smelled like peach cobbler. My Grandma and Grandpa lived there.

Grandma and Grandpa were poor. Grandma worked downtown at night. She cleaned the offices in the tall building where lawyers worked. She rode the bus to work. When she finished working she had to walk home because the bus didn't run that late.

Grandpa sold household products from door to door. He had an old car he drove on his sales route. He wouldn't drive after dark because his eyesight was bad. Grandma never learned to drive. That is why she had to walk home late at night from her job. Grandpa sold such things as lemon and vanilla extract, liniment, spices, shampoo, lotion, toothpaste, toothbrushes, cherry flavored syrup for iced drinks and cocoa. He didn't make much money but he liked visiting with the housewives and enjoyed being offered cake and coffee at their tables.

Grandma was the best cook in the world. But the thing I liked best was when she made peach cobbler. The phone would ring at my house and it would be Grandma saying, "You better get yourself right down here, Billy, or else your Grandpa is gonna eat up all this peach cobbler!"

Then she'd hang up. Lucky for me I lived in the next block so Grandpa never did get to eat the entire cobbler before I high tailed it down there.

Eating that cobbler was just the best thing in the world. But the next best thing in the world was listening to Grandpa's stories while we ate the cobbler.

Why, when he was seventeen years old he'd ridden horseback on a cattle drive from Texas to Montana. He'd worked on a ranch that had hundreds of cattle. One time he cut his index and middle fingers real bad when butchering a calf and forever after those two fingers were stiffened into a permanent peace sign.

He'd tell how he met Grandma at a dance. He said she was the "Belle of the Ball" and she said he was the most handsome man she'd ever laid eyes on. And she always said she never kissed him until they got married.

He'd drag out their wedding picture and I'd laugh every time I saw it. Grandpa looked bug-eyed staring straight into the camera. Grandma was dressed old fashioned and kind of buck toothed. I thought they must have been blinder than a bat to think each one was so good looking when they met. I liked the way they looked now lots better.

By this time the cobbler was about all gone and Grandma was looking like she wished we'd get out of the kitchen so she could clean it up. So Grandpa and I took the hint. We'd get up from the table saying, "That's the best cobbler that ever came out of that oven and we hope it ain't the last one."

We always said that. But one time when we said it we never had any idea that it WAS the last cobbler to ever come out of that oven.

Grandma was religious. Grandpa was too but he thought God had a sense of humor. One time I just happened to be there at lunchtime and just happened to get invited to stay for biscuits, gravy, fried chicken, corn on the cob and peach cobbler. We all bowed our heads and Grandpa said the blessing, "Biscuits rough and biscuits tough but thank God there’s biscuits enough"

Grandma said, "Now Willie, that ain't the right example to set for Billy." Grandpa said, "Oh, Lillie, I think God has a sense of humor." And he winked at me.

Anyway, Grandma wouldn't let us eat a crumb until we bowed our heads again and she said the blessing proper like this, "Dear Lord we thank thee for this food and may strength gained from it be used in service to thee, amen." Grandpa looked serious and echoed a loud, "Amen."

Grandpa ate all kinds of funny things just to impress me like sugar on canned tomatoes and sugar on beans. One time he even put hot peppers on his ice cream and said to me, "Ah, Billy, this is finer than frog's hair".

Grandma said, "Don't pay him no mind, Billy, and unless you got a stomach like a goat don't you try it neither."

One night Grandma couldn't go to work. Grandpa said she had a stroke. She was sick for a long time. Grandpa couldn't go on his sales route anymore 'cause he looked after Grandma. There wasn't any more peach cobbler either.

My Mama would go down each day to help with Grandma. Grandpa would say, "Now, Marie , you just get on back home. You got enough to do at your house. Me and Lillie is a doin' just great here."

And they were too. Grandpa took care of Grandma just like she was a baby. The only bad thing was he just never did learn to make a peach cobbler.

When Grandma finally got her voice back after a long time in the bed she called me over to the bedside and said, "Billy, I been a layin' here a thinkin'. Why is God lettin' me linger on so long? The answer came to me like this. When I go out in the yard to pick a bouquet I pick the flowers that are in full bloom; not the wilted ones or the ones that ain't opened yet. I pick 'em at just what I consider to be the right time. And I think God does the same thing when he makes up His bouquet. He plucks us from this earth when we can add the most beauty to His bouquet. I think He's just a leavin' me here until that right time when I can contribute the most beauty to His heavenly bouquet."

Well, I guess Grandma finally reached full bloom 'cause she died not too long after that.

Sometimes when I'm in my bed at night, thinkin, I sorta see that bouquet of God's. It's in a big white vase on God's table. There are all kinds of flowers in it. And right in the center is a beautiful white Lily. I know that's Grandma. And in my thoughts I go over and smell it. Funny, but that bouquet never smells like flowers should. It always sorta smells more like peach cobbler to me.