I came home from school and found our neighbor's pick up backed up to our garden. Daddy had told him he could have the corn stalks for fodder. I got in there and helped pull them out by the roots while he threw them into the truck bed. By the time we finished, the whole area looked like it had purposely been prepared for planting. I went and got a bag of peanuts that my grandmother had given me. They had given me such a bellyache that I had most of them left. I spaced them up and down the rows and ran out of peanuts right when I ran out of rows. Everything seemed perfect. When Dad came home, he had stopped by to purchase seed. I said nothing. After no time at all he came looking for me. He kept discovering peanuts. Daddy rarely whipped us, but that day he lost it. I have no idea what he planted, but in no time at all there was a lushness of peanuts. Daddy covered the blooms with dirt. I thought that was because he didn't want them to produce. Some time later, I remember an entire army cot piled high with peanuts to dry. Daddy acted so proud of himself. My mom, who never took my side said, "Any money you get off those peanuts is your son's. He already took a whipping for them." I don't know who he sold them to, but I got a new pump and filter for my aquarium.

Ohhhhh!!!! You took my picture! Shame on you. Those are so clever, and I am definitely going to have a page in a scrapbook for some of those buxom gals. Thanks for sharing. Connie L

It's interesting how something that wasn't funny at the time becomes funny in the telling after the fact. I was living in our barn while I built the house. I got up one morning and walked into the house to start work, and heard growling. I looked up to see two stray pit bulls camped out in my future living room! I hastily retreated, and tried to figure out a safe way to get them to leave. They were laying right in front of our largest and most expensive window (not yet installed), so throwing rocks or shooting at them was out of the question. They weren't impressed by my shouting and threats. I finally left for the lumber yard, and when I got back, they were gone. I hastily made some plywood panels to block the openings!

My last year trick-or-treating, my friend's and my favorite TV show was Alias Smith and Jones. Swoon. So, living in a horse-friendly community, we dressed as the guys and trick-or-treated on her horses. Fun! Except, they didnt have saddles, and I have a hard time mounting without one. And, every time we went to a door, the horses tried to walk in! So one of us had to stay in the driveway holding both horses firmly, while the other rang the doorbell. Kind of a bother, in the end lol. Then there was the car of boys who tossed a cherry bomb as they drove by, spooking the horses. That was definitely NOT fun. My son's early Halloweens were scary for him. We went to a hayride, and one of the parents on the ride wore a slasher costume, OMG it was gory. We had to get off the ride after not too long, DS was practically clawing his way inside my coat while sneaking frightened looks at the guy. And answering the door one year, the dad accompanying the child had on a "scream" mask. Scared the bejeebers out of DS. We had plenty of talks about real and not-real. So, when he was 3 and going trick-or-treating for the first time, I'd made him a scarecrow costume. He freaked out, "I don't WANT to be a scarecrow! I want to be DS!" So I dressed him in his red puddle-jumper overall and rain boots, threw on a firefighter's helmet (it was, in fact, sprinkling every now and then that day), and went out. At every house, folks would say "what have we here? Oh, a firefighter!" And DS would correct them "No, I'm only DRESSED like a firefighter." After 5 houses he said "Mommy, I have enough candy now." Funnily enough, he grew up to be an actor and portraying characters other than himself is what he does.