Memories of living in a one room tarpaper shack with a lean-to where the cast iron range was. We all slept in the small one room, the sofa fell open into a bed for two, army bunk beds with kids sleeping feet to feet, a crib for two of the babies and a rollaway bed for Mom and Dad that folded up. Potbelly stove in the middle. At night in summertime it didnt cool off until morning hours but i remember every night going to sleep to the barking of the dogs and sometimes young men in the neighborhood would gather around an old broken down car and use the roof for a drum - singing and drumming into the night. My lullabye! I would lay back and wait for it to start. It was a world of poverty but also a world of miracles because they kept us all fed, loved and we had the beautiful world of the rez to explore - after we did our chores! Any other life would seem boring. And it helped me to appreciate what I have - not what I dont.
Posted on: Mon, 07 Apr 2014 02:18:39 +0000
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