We had about 82 acres until the big Corps of Engineers lake (Lake Hartwell) covered much of it up. What we had left was mostly woods, brushy rocks, and some upland pasture. The stark realization of not having bottom land caused my dad, POP, to look for other options. We moved to Barnesville, GA, where I attended the only accredited school in the whole county -- Gordon Military Academy. Not a lot of fun, but not too bad. We then moved to Anderson, SC where Pop ran a marina and was part owner. I worked the gas docks evenings after school and weekends.
Not a bad job for a high schooler. I even spent some time teaching the young ladies to water ski. Really, not a bad job. More later.............
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Saturday, April 2, 2011
Not a cat in the hat
As a 12-year old boy with a younger brother (6 years younger), I ofter was burdened by being forced to have him tag along with me on my chores. besides being a pain in the patootie, he sometimes actually did provide some entertaining adventures. One evening at about dusk, we were on the way down to the lower pasture (see previous post) to get the cattle back up to the barn. This route took us from the little dirt road, an extremely generous complement to call it a road, to the upper pasture, then through some woods and across a creek to the lower pasture. The rutted path, previously described as a road, was barely wide enough to accommodate a tractor or narrow pick-up if you didn't mind getting the sides of both the vehicle and predominately yourself scratched by the bushes and tree limbs encroaching from the sides.
As we entered the wooded area between the two pastures, we thought we heard the low moaning sound of a big cat. In our minds, it was either a cougar, or a cave lion, or some other dangerous large carnivore. Hearing it again, closer than before, we became convinced that it was a Bobcat, probably rabid and entirely possibly agitated also. We didn't really want to deal with an agitated, rabid, large, drooling, mean, dangerous Bobcat, so thinking of a way to get us out of danger, I decided that I would push my baby brother up a tree and follow with the intent to get us safely 15-20 feet off the ground and out of danger.
After waiting for a few hours, or maybe 20-30 minutes and hearing no more cat sounds, we continued on our way to bring the cows up. After sharing our hair-raising story with Pop (my dad) and our uncles, we were not prepared for the ensuing laughter and teasing we were subjected to. Apparently, I didn't think about the fact that cats, in general, and Bobcats specifically are adept at tree-climbing.
Later, Dudes and Dudettes
As we entered the wooded area between the two pastures, we thought we heard the low moaning sound of a big cat. In our minds, it was either a cougar, or a cave lion, or some other dangerous large carnivore. Hearing it again, closer than before, we became convinced that it was a Bobcat, probably rabid and entirely possibly agitated also. We didn't really want to deal with an agitated, rabid, large, drooling, mean, dangerous Bobcat, so thinking of a way to get us out of danger, I decided that I would push my baby brother up a tree and follow with the intent to get us safely 15-20 feet off the ground and out of danger.
After waiting for a few hours, or maybe 20-30 minutes and hearing no more cat sounds, we continued on our way to bring the cows up. After sharing our hair-raising story with Pop (my dad) and our uncles, we were not prepared for the ensuing laughter and teasing we were subjected to. Apparently, I didn't think about the fact that cats, in general, and Bobcats specifically are adept at tree-climbing.
Later, Dudes and Dudettes
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