prune picker

This is the blog of a prune picker. (Native born Californian) Retired oilfield. I am an old man. I blog a lot about my body and getting old. As I approach death life gets more interesting. More interesting is not good. I still drive. I attend sports, music, and civic events. I am writing my memoirs. I attend swim class three times a week. Some of my blogs might be interesting. A lot of my blogs are silly and trivial. None are very long.

Friday, March 31, 2017

Vital Signs and a Tale from the Great Depression.

My weight was fairly steady during the month. Around 235. I reached a weight of 219 for one day on my diet of last fall. Blood pressure not bad. Around 130/60 with a pulse rate of 63. Last night I was fighting a cold. Notice that my temperature was 98.3 yesterday. That is the highest temperature of the month.
A Tale from the Great Depression.

I attended a lecture at the library last night. It was about the role of the government and the church during the great depression. The lecture covered some sad stories of hardship. The roles of the government and the church were different in the deep south compared to the rest of the US. The lecture reminded me about the many adventures that I had during the depression. Here is one.

I was about eight living alone with my Dad. At one time my Dad was fairly well off. I can remember good sized houses and lots of siblings and my Mom around a big table. My Dad had a contracting business with a team of horses. (named Bert and Beck) But the depression and the mechanization of contracting work put my Dad into very hard times. (broke and hungry) My Dad and I lived in a small house (a one bedroom duplex) on the estate of a Rich Lady. She lived close by in a mansion with a maid. (I assume that she was a widow) I can remember being in her living room with my Dad and several adults. She wrote leaflets on the bad effects of smoking. (They knew that smoking was bad for you even in the old days) The Rich Lady's brother lived in the other half of the duplex that we lived in. He was old and scrawny and smoked all the time. When he opened his door the smell of tobacco smoke would fill the porch.

The lady had an automobile (a STAR). My Dad would use the car sometimes, when he could get it started. We would go visit Dad's lady friends.

My Dad raised rabbits in the Rich Lady's barn area. It was my job to feed and water the rabbits. Oh, I hated that and felt so abused! What a poor baby. I can remember Dad and I going to grocery stores where my Dad would sell the rabbits. All dressed out they looked like babies.

During this time in the morning I would go over to the Rich Lady's house (in the dark) and knock on the kitchen window. The maid would let me in and give me me a bowl of hot oatmeal with brown sugar and whole milk. I remember that I sat at a counter facing the window that I had just knocked on. I ate every bit of that oatmeal. I still love oatmeal.

The Rich Lady thought that the little boy of her tenant (Dad) needed a hot breakfast before going to school. She did something about it.

3 comments:

  1. Great Depression story. Please give us more of these.

    I wish I had videotaped stories from my parents' lives in North Carolina during the Depression.

    Bigfoot & Littlefoot

    ReplyDelete
  2. Love the story Chuck

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thanks Folks for your kind comments.

    ReplyDelete

!-- Site Meter -->