grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Winter Bat Cave

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The house where I grew up is lovingly named the Bat Cave because my mother’s initials are BAT (Barbara Ann Tate). Even more appropriately, the name fits as certain rooms are windowless are dark due to add-ons oddly placed here and there whenever Daddy had a good crop.

The Bat Cave is a place of great adventure. Never-a-dull-moment adventure. At the mere smell of a distant rain shower, the electricity flickers twice then goes out. And speaking of rain… Rain leads to standing water in the back yard. Standing water results in toilet flushing problems… That’s all I’m gonna say about that.

Momma, my sister and I recently loaded up and drove from Dallas to the Bat Cave to take care of farm business. We did this even though bad weather was forecasted. Even though we knew better.

A little snow?

Ha.

We weren’t afraid of a little snow. Plus, caves are supposed to be cold, right?

Yes indeedy.

Ice Storm

We didn’t factor in ice.

Before the most boring of all Super Bowl games ended, the Bat Cave was sealed inside an inch of glassy ice. Trees were quickly transformed into beautiful Chihuly-like artwork. Gale force winds snapped power lines. Telephone poles were sucked from the Mississippi County gumbo and lobbed into fields along the highway leading to the cave.

Fun! Just like old times, we had a bunkin’ party complete with friends from grade school. We slept piled together underneath hundred year old quilts. A night of giggling and reminiscing gave way to an arctic morning with no heat, no coffee, no showers…

Fortunately, folks take care of each other in the country, and our favorite farmer rigged up a duck pit heater in the kitchen and brought us strong black coffee. He’s a lifesaver that way.

Duck Pit Heater

Excitement faded as temperatures plunged and reality settled in. Thirteen electric poles were down within the two mile Bat Cave-to-Cottonwood Corner stretch. Thirteen…

Over the next few days, we became gypsies. During daylight hours, we camped out in the duck pit kitchen wearing multiple layers of clothing. I hung quilts in doorways to trap heat. Before nightfall we escaped to Memphis to the warmth of a hotel room. We turned our debacle into a semi-vacation by visiting the Peabody ducks, dining on Beale Street, and touring the greatness of Sun Studio. We even cheered our beloved Dallas Mavericks to victory over the Grizzlies with last minute, excellent seats. (Since the Grizzlies are my backup team, it was a double treat.)

Memphis

Downtown Memphis w/ Mississippi River; Sun Studios; Peabody Ducks; Fed Ex Forum

 

After four days with no electricity, power has been restored to the cave, knock-on-wood. We are luxuriating in the warmth and enjoying all those things typically taken for granted like being able to wash dirty underwear and enjoy a cup of coffee…

But there is snow in the forecast tonight. The splendor could be short lived.

Grace Grits and Gardening

A huge thank you to all the folks who have worked around the clock in frigid weather to restore power to Mississippi County! 

Musical Pairing:

My Starter Won’t Start, Justin Townes Earle

Last Laugh.

By

Rivercrest High School, Wilson, Ar

“Where were you today?” Daddy asked me at supper.

Momma shot me a look of whatdya mean where was she today?

“I was at school, the place I go every day. Where did you think I was?”

“I thought you were over by the St. Francis floodway. I followed a yellow corvette all afternoon. It wasn’t you.” He shook his head and grumbled as though bitterly disappointed he didn’t catch me messing up.

“Of course it wasn’t me.”

I knew better than to skip school. In Mississippi County even when you didn’t know what you were doing, everyone else did.

my yellow corvette - 1975

Grace Grits and Gardening

This post was written especially for Write Tribe 100 Words on Saturday. Prompt: She Had The Last Laugh.

 Today was my Daddy’s birthday. He would have been seventy-seven.  He died twenty years ago…

Thomas Tate

Thomas Tate

 

I was a 4-H Dropout.

By

4-H dropout

…excerpt from my book (coming soon…) 

I was happiest sitting in my bedroom playing with Barbies or lying underneath a shade tree reading all day. Realizing I was shy and possibly headed down the path of a backward farm girl, Momma signed me up for playgroups and charm school and all kinds of functions I never much enjoyed. In fact, all the Keiser mothers plotted ways to force their children together as often as possible—a break for the adults, an opportunity for the kids to learn a few social skills.

Last year the mothers formed a 4-H group for all the girls. At last, a real club. Something I could get behind.

“Momma will we get to wear special uniforms?” I asked.

“Maybe so,” she said as she poured tea in all the glasses. I could tell she wasn’t really listening to me because she started whining to Daddy about how she needed a new car. I wasn’t paying much attention to them either. Even though it seemed I was only eating supper, I was busy memorizing the official 4-H pledge for our first meeting tomorrow after school. Plus I was thinking about the pig I would raise in our backyard.

Right off I realized the mothers had no idea about the inner workings of a proper 4-H club. Instead of raising a cow or building a chicken coop, we learned to make no-bake lemon icebox pies.

What kind of fake 4-H club was this?!

I didn’t want a cooking badge. I had already perfected a variety of desserts with my Easy Bake Oven. I needed livestock.

How many times had I explained to my friends—yes we are farmers, no we don’t raise animals, yes we grow cotton and soybeans and wheat. It was like we had half a farm—the boring half.  I stuck with 4-H an entire long year because Momma made me, but I never saw or touched or smelled a single farm animal. I always wondered if I quit right before it got good.

Grace Grits and Gardening

4-H Pledge:

I pledge my head to clearer thinking,
My heart to greater loyalty,
My hands to larger service,
and my health to better living,
for my club, my community, my country, and my world. 

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!