CBEE, again, you have painted another beautiful part of how things were, a long time ago. Those mules, astounding, I love to hear of these things, when you have time, tell some more, I love to listen.
I think that is why I would sit for hours, enthralled with the stories that my Husband's Grandma would tell us. The old, hard times, days of growing up on the plains of Saskatchewan, farmers.
I have lived my entire life with farming folk. My maternal Grandmother was a farmer, her Husband having built their home out of timber that he cut down from their property. Memories of a child, some really scarey memories that my Uncles who still lived at home would tell me of the dark woods that were beyond the cleared part of their farm, -- to venture there -- we only looked off into the scarey dark bush and the beaten path that would lead through it, there were surely demons and scarey monsters in those thar woods.
Every day I am grateful that I am a country girl, that blood is there, it can never be removed. I have tried the city life, for a few short years, and I have to say, I am back to the country, livin' and lovin' life, as do my Daughters. Have a wonderful, beautiful day, greatest of health. Cindi