Page 26 - Gary's Book - Final Copy 7.9.2017_Active

any kind of fish. We churned our butter by hand and made our own buttermilk. I
had buttermilk with actual butter flakes, which I considered to be a real treat.

We all lived in a bunk house, which had very little heat; we had no fans and or air
conditioning. When one of the boys went to school, I would have them steal a book
for me to read since I had a hunger to learn and acquire information. Somehow, I
learned enough without going to school to eventually make up the two grades I had

failed. One night I got caught reading under the covers with a flashlight;
consequently, I had to spend the night in the barn. At least in the barn I could
nestle up between the feed sacks and listen to the rats.

For some reason, most cattle deliver their young in the middle of the night. I
remember this one night the cow was bellowing, and I had to go see if she was

okay. As I entered the barn, a rat ran up my leg under my pajamas, and I remember
shaking and shaking my leg until it fell out. Luckily, it did not bite me.

Because of all our animals, we needed to make weekly trips to town to get slop for
the hogs and bread for the cows and chickens. Alma had an old Dodge pick-up
with board rails surrounding the bed area. I always volunteered to go into town.
Usually two of us would go because it would take both of us to lift the large milk

cans into the truck. We would ride in the back of the truck while her mean dog,
Chico, would sit up front with her in the cab. Alma was so mean that she would
periodically sic Chico on us boys. She enjoyed picking on us and being downright
cruel.

The dairy was always my favorite stop because hidden in the milk cans were
sometimes out-of-date popsicles, fudge bars, and Eskimo Pies that were still

partially in their wrappers. That was how the dairy disposed of them, but to us,
they were real treats! We often stopped at the bakery where we got stale bread,
muffins, buns, and rolls. These were the only sweet treats we ever got. If they had
not turned green, then we would go for them. In due time, the workers at the dairy
and the bakery caught us snitching; fortunately for us, they would smile and put

some fresh stuff out on the top. Luckily, they never told Alma.

These trips exposed me to the “outside world” where I saw that people had homes,
cars and boats. These visits engraved in my mind the possibility that I could join
them someday. The farm, however, brought me close to nature, and to this day I

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