Raisin' up in Wright City meant traipsin' down oil field black top roads.
Seein' as how crude oil was cheap and plentiful in them days, county comissioners stirred up sandy soil and crude to make stuff to pave the dirt country lanes.
It was all we knew...including the facts that when it rained they was slicker than owl sh*t, and when it was HOT, the oil would pool in spots like shiny ebony rainbows in the July sun.
Course, being "country" meant bein' " barefoot". An being barefoot (from Easter day til "caint") meant contendin' from daylight til dark with the ferocious East Tex grass burrs...and that dad-gum oil road.
Probably country folks is born with callouses on they feet??? The ole ranch hand well remembers skippin' cross sticker patches like it was cotton candy......but them dang roads was a different brand of devilment.
They weren't but one way to survive on that steamin' boulevard and it was "run like hell till ya feet smoked...and then jump on an adjacent tuft of grass on the side of the road to let your tootsies unbake"??? Run again, hop on the grass, etc.
The ole fat boy shore was grinnin' when Dad brought home a junkyard ragged bicycle so the bumpkin could glide down those rural paths.
Life was good in them days!
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2 comments:
Glen Burt sent me, and I'm so glad he did! I read all of your posts for June and loved them! You now have a new follower!!!
Glen sent me too. I'm not from rural Texas, but still, this post transported to me summers in the east when they oiled/tarred the roads around our house and topped them with sand. All I remember was skidding on the sand patches while riding our bike. We got some killer scabs on our knees...
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