My Trip to Gainesville, Part 2
Sunday, March 4, 2012 at 5:14PM This is a rather long article. I think the best way to handle it would be to continue publishing it in sections, so today will be Part 2, and it will cover my thoughts on the Old South and Old Florida, and the land where Nika1 lives. The next part, already written, will cover Cross Creek, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, and The Yearling Restaurant, where we ate dinner. The final part will be about another piece of Florida history, and the community, named for a Seminole Indian chief, that is believed to be the oldest inland town in the state.
OLD SOUTH/OLD FLORIDA
When I moved to Florida from New Jersey in 1981, I must admit that I brought some of my Yankee prejudices with me. To be honest, I never looked at southerners with disdain, nor did I see them as intellectually inferior because of their funny sounding dialects — funny to me, anyway — but let’s just say I was a little apprehensive because I was quite aware of their convoluted hatred for people of a different color, not to mention their resentment toward northerners. Of course, I didn’t expect everyone south of the Mason-Dixon Line to feel that way, and they don’t, but it wasn’t all that many years before I moved here that “coloreds” used different drinking fountains and bathrooms in many of those one-time Confederate states; Florida included. Even when I made my migration south, there were lingering reminders of inequality in places such as abandoned gas stations. Cobwebbed signs remained attached to bathroom doors as testaments to what they once proclaimed: WHITES ONLY. Like the old saying goes, we’ve come a long way, Baby, and so have I.
During my 31 years of living in Florida, I have embraced the South, but it has absolutely nothing to do with its racist past. It’s because of its rich history, steeped in genteel southern mannerisms; of virtuous young men politely courting delightfully flirtatious belles of innocence — patiently waiting for their coming of age — as they are introduced into the upper echelons of society. It was a romantic time, and in this respect, the South continues to maintain a unique essence of bygone days, deeply etched into it’s very heart and soul. But it’s fading fast in many areas, like Orlando, where fragrant foliage is ever replaced by the harsh realities of freshly poured asphalt and concrete, and fauna is pushed to the outer edges of what was once theirs with each passing breath. (I strongly encourage you to read: Beth Kassab: The Senator victim of Florida’s long history of neglect, Orlando Sentinel, Feb. 29, 2012)
Fortunately, pockets of the Old South continue to thrive, and throughout, you’ll find many notable plantations with antebellum homes, some still privately maintained, and others turned into historical landmarks or bed & breakfast inns. There are many towns and cities that thrive on their heritage, like Savannah, Charleston and Natchez. You’ll also find vast tracts of land that are, to this day, owned by the same families the properties were deeded to many years ago. In Florida, a lot of that land still thrives with citrus groves as far as the eye can see, and beef cattle grazing on the open range. Yes, much of it has been sold off, sometimes because of hard freezes, and other times over greed; but Florida is a good-sized state and there’s still plenty of private, pristine land around whose owners are proud of their history. They are proud to carry and pass the torches to future generations, just like it’s always been.
When I made my trek to the Gainesville area last month, I knew I was in for a special treat — one that epitomizes what I consider to be Old Florida. Of utmost importance, though, was that I would be spending time with Nika1, a lovely friend and host. Secondly, I would be visiting the town she lives in; truly a place I have a great appreciation for. I had been there once before. Also, she promised to take me to Cross Creek, and if you’re not familiar with it, it’s the little community where Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings lived for 25-years and wrote her Pulitzer prize-winning novel The Yearling. Her cracker-style home looks just like it did when she lived there in the 1930s. We were also going to have dinner at the adjacent restaurant, aptly named The Yearling Restaurant.
THE HOMESTEAD
I arrived at her homestead at 11:02 am, two minutes late. I hate that. We had a Gator basketball game to attend first, and that was most pressing, so off to O’Connell Center we went. I did a write-up on that leg of my trip in Part 1. When the game ended, we had plenty of time to spend before heading over to Cross Creek, so she took me to her old haunts, including the family farm. It goes without saying that she grew up in the house she still lives in, and it was built by her family in 1892. Trust me when I say there’s a lot of history in that home, and the interior is a testament to that.
With a moo moo here and a moo moo there, Nika1 raises beef cattle. EIEIO. If you look at the banner atop this website, those are her cows, and there are lots more where they came from, plus plenty of acreage, which you cannot fully comprehend by the images below.
I spent many years of my youth living on farms, and while some of you may find this somewhat odd, I truly enjoyed the smell of fresh grass and cow manure that wafted through the air that day. It brought back fond memories that dated back to my preteen and early teen years. It also reminded me not to step in it.
As we were leaving, an SUV pulled alongside us and Nika1 exchanged a few friendly words with the occupants about Indian digs on her property, most likely Timucua. Two mounds, to be precise. One is a burial mound and the other is ceremonial, meaning it’s a trove of pottery and other treasures offered to their gods. Both are ancient. Anthropologists from the University of Florida are carefully collecting the relics. Nika1 has discovered many arrowheads on her property over the years; some in the field across the street from her front yard. The area is rich in native American history, and that is of special interest to me. In the near future, I will publish another article on an Indian mound much closer to home, in Sanford, FL. I still have to “dig” for more information. But first, I’ve got two more parts of this story to go.
Next up: Cross Creek and how it impacted the area. Here is an excerpt from Part 3:
Cross Creek is one of those places you could pretty much conjure up in your head. You’d expect there to be a creek and bridge, of course, and not much else, and you’d be pretty much right. It’s a very small community, somewhat secluded, and above all else, a place that epitomizes Old Florida. Of her town, Rawlings wrote about the harmony of the wind and rain, the sun and seasons, the seeds and, above all else, time. Once you enter Cross Creek, you become a part of the mystery, the passion, and the oneness; and for a brief moment of eternity, time stands still. If there were ever a place on earth that beckons a creative mind, this is it.
angelbabysings | tagged Beth Kassab, Cross Creek, Gainesville, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Nika1, O'Connell Center, Old Florida, Old South, Racism, The Yearling, The Yearling Restaurant, Timicua | in Anthropology, Blogging, Dave Knechel, David B. Knechel, David Knechel, Days Gone By, Marinade Dave, Marinade Dave Knechel, marinadedave, uNIVERSITY OF fLORIDA | Share Article 
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Reader Comments (58)
Nika, first off I want to address this to you. Thank you so very much for sharing your wealth with us through Dave's eyes and his trusty camera. You are so blessed to have access to the 'wide open ranges.' Reading Dave's words and viewing the pictures makes me melancholy for my youth and the farm. I guess you cannot take the 'country' out of those who had the good fortune to experience it.
I am proud to say that I have stepped in a good many fresh patties while barefooting it across a pasture. It was much easier to wash it off my feet than scrape it off my shoes. Ohhh and the smell of freshly mowed hay and being able to help harvest it during haying season. Just across the road from my old homestead was a huge farm and I spent my summers there. The farmer paid us some loose change for our help and we started out young earning those coppers and nickels. He raised beef and milking cows as well as sheep for the meat market that he owned in the small town where I lived.
I have always had a deep fascination for the south. It saddened me to think that times were not so good with all the racial issues. I believe that I was around ten before I ever saw a black person. He was a redcap at our train station and carried the passenger's baggage. I never even noticed his color as I was not raised to discriminate. I hold steadfast to what I was taught back then.
This is one great article along with wonderful pictures. Thank you, Nika and great writing, Dave. Thank you too.
Dang, I wrote a response, published it and now it's gone. POOF!
I said I'm glad you got a lot of enjoyment out of the post from your own memories of times past. I was trying to conjure up thoughts like that, while describing Old Florida and what it means to me - not even a native.
There is something almost magical about the South, and I find it to be very intriguing. Unfortunately, no area is free of racism, but what happened here was a shame. It's a part of history and we can't change it, but even growing up in NJ and visiting other northern communities, racism was there, as well. As much as it's changed, it remains the same, just not as profound.
Thanks, Snoopy.
Dave~~I believe you taught us to write in our notepad and then copy and paste?? I would accept your apology but I did not see a 'sorry.'
Yes, I know, but it published because I saw it, but then, it was gone the next time I looked. I wasn't trying to apologize, other than to let you know I had written it 15 minutes earlier and assumed it was still there.
I should practice what I preach, you think?
Round Two....
No apology. Typical. I preferred the original. An apology is in order.
As to your question... I think, "yes'.
Hi Dave and Snoopy - I really love the farm except on days like today when someone left the gate open and the cows decided to take a walk Thank goodness for friends and relatives. The pictures you took turned out really well and the scenery is beautiful. I wonder where the rest of the cows were? Probably down by the mounds helping the diggers.LOL The area from Micanopy to where I live was steep in Indian country and it is so sad the tribe either died out or moved on and combined with other tribes.
Dave - i am so glad you enjoy old Florida. It is so different from Orlando and all the tourists. It is so quiet here and still not far away from Gainesville and all the U of F excitement. Also not far to the south in the Ocala area are all the race horse farms.
Sorry, then. I must have hit the delete button instead.
Nika~~I love the freedom of wide open spaces and you are in God's country as far as I'm concerned. You get to breathe in fresh air... Anytime the cows got loose at the farm across the road from us they made straight for dad's huge garden. Do you rotate the cows from one pasture to another to let the grass get a head start before the cattle munches it all up? That is probably a silly question. I hope you don't get droughts in your area very often.
Round Three....
Apology accepted. lol
Darn cows, Nika1, they'll do it every time. I remember that happening several times, too, but I'll tell you, pigs are worse. Once they get out, they'll run around for hours, until they just get plum worn out. Then they make it home on their own. Cows have to be rounded up.
I didn't really touch up the pictures in Photoshop other than shrinking them from 65" wide to 25". I may have tweaked one or two of them, but otherwise, that's the way the camera took them. It's a good one.
Yes, I have fallen in love with Old Florida, I'm afraid. Actually, it also includes the Deep South, too, because I enjoy taking trips to New Orleans and the like. I think I could easily live in your area and hit Gainesville for a more lively experience. Except... I'm afraid some of those coeds would give me a heart attack.
Yes, Orlando has its share of tourists, but they are usually to the south of me. Still, every time a barn comes down, a 7-11 goes up. Much has changes since I moved here in '81.
Thanks for your southern hospitality, Nika1. You are as gracious as they come. And then some.
Yes, we have to rotate the cows at least three times a year. The drought this year is one of the worst I can ever remember. The lake is way down and the creeks are practically dried up. We do need a few tropical storms this year just no hurricanes please.
The bulls are in another area - When they are with the cows then Dave you will not walk so freely through the pastures. Well maybe I will not tell you and see how fast you can jump a fence or climb a tree. I can remember when we were little watching our friends sitting in the trees as we would laugh and just walk away. Not too long of course.
Believe me, Nika1, I know how unfriendly and mean bulls can be. I was always respectful around them, even though I was on the other side of the fence. I was never chased by one because I knew enough to realize they were the boss, not me.
Nika~ ~ this is a true story and I cannot pass it up. My late hubby was a city boy. We went to visit some friends in the country who owned a few cattle. After a few beer, hubby decided to go inside the fence and pat a cow. He never got one little pat in before the cow put it's head down and charged him. He didn't have too far to run and I never before witnessed a man scale a fence so high and then land on his two feet on the other side of it. Jim's cow was a black bull...LOL
Nika~~if Dave makes a return trip when the bulls are servicing the cows, get him to go inside the fence and strew around a big bale of hay wearing that RED shirt. *wink
Hope the drought eases for you soon Nika1. Thank you for letting Dave share your beautiful property with his readers.
Please, please keep posting the parts as soon as you can Dave. Im really enjoying this. Thank you!
Oh, I have two more stories, Tiffany. One needs tweaking and the other one still has to be written. Thanks for really enjoying them. I like to write them, too.
What is so interesting to me is that we recently went though our family tree and found out that we are related to the Hendry's there in Florida (from the civil war). Most of our family (on my mother's side) are from Blackshear,Georgia and alot of the settled here in Savannah.
Hi Cindy! I know there's a Hendry County east of Ft. Myers, and I know that Jim Hendry works for the NY Yankees, and I also know that the Yankees are my favorite baseball team. Now, there's a Rebel/Yankee connection if I ever saw one.
One of these days, I'm going to drive up to Savannah.
You compliment each other Dave and Nika1. Dave has the opportunity to meet and visit with you on grounds which have great history, finding stories of life and lifestyle, enjoying the Gator games add so much to his journalism for others to read. Nika1, you have the opportunity to actually know Dave Knechel!! So many enjoy his most talented and impressing character on paper. Dave enjoys the wonderful woman you are and in your being his friend. You are every bit that and more to give us all an opportunity to read of your outings.
Dave, I have appreciation for the way you write this post, as you have gained knowledge and more respect for the locals where there is great history and a people who have weathered all that history while today, share more understanding and accepting ways. I would find the North to be as weird and challenging as you did the South. They speak as different in their way as do those in the South in their way. When you mention childhood, there is much history in the Southern states that are a part of my own family. I left there as a very young girl but have boxes full of that history as my ancestors lived it. Stories of pain, devastations, of pride, and romance, which overshadows any criticism of our use of words.
Reminds me of the time I was a kid and stupidly wandered into the bull enclosure at my Great-Grandma's farm (she leased out most all of it to neighboring farmers). Just as I was thinking, Hmmm, that's not a cow, is it? he charged me and I had to escape into a huge old lilac bush and stayed there for almost an hour til he got bored and moved away. He really wanted to kill me though, that was clear, and I had never been at odds with any animal before so that was a shock.
Nika11, how far away from you to that huge spread with all the exotics on it, the one they used for filming that Sean Connery flick on? I'm forgetting the name right now, but we did the tour there 3 years ago and that was enjoyable and your place looks so much like the land they have there, the colors green the same faint blue tint and the grey-green of the Spanish Moss. Your cows look all fat and happy!
Hello, New Puppy!
For twenty-some years after I moved to Orlando, I used to go back every summer to visit with friends. When I returned, my friends here would tell me I came home with a Joisy accent, but it would fade quickly. To be honest, I grew up in a very rural part of the state – farm land – and most people in this area often told me they could not discern any kind of accent from there. Of course, it was different from theirs, from living in the south, but it wasn't strong enough to determine where I came from. It was just a little different. Now, I have lived in Forida more years than I spent growing up in New Jersey, I'm certain I have picked up a few colloquialisms. Here, we go to the beach. Up there, we go down the shore.
Yes, I have gained a lot of knowledge about the South and, specifically, Old Florida. One of the first things I noticed was the friendliness of people who grew up in Florida. If they like you, they can be exceedingly accommodating. If they don't, well, don't go hangin' around for too long. I think the gist of it is to treat everyone with respect. I know that when I moved here, I wasn't so open to the idea, but like I said, the natives grow on you and, doggone it, they are some of the finest people on earth. Sometime, I'd love to hear about those boxes and boxes filled with your family history. This is precisely the kind of thing I'm looking for; priceless things where the value is in its rich descripotions of earlier times. You cannot put a dollar sign on it any more than I could write about the south without sensing it. You only know it when you feel it.
Um... to actually know Dave Knechel? Trust me, he's just a regular guy, and he's quite humbled by what you wrote. If not for people like you, who would be his inspiration?
Thank you very much, New Puppy. You are a wonderful friend.
Karen - The closest I ever came to a bull was when I entered the barn and he had mounted a cow. That bull must have stood twenty feet tall and he looked powerful and determined. He was like Godzilla to this nine-year-old boy, let me tell you. The farm-hands laughed because my eyes were the size of saucers.
Such a wonderful, well written article. I wonder now why I hated history in school, when I love it now. I guess its an age thing, huh ?? Your article was two fold. It brought back all of those long forgotten summers at my grandfathers farm. He grew cotton and had his cows and a couple of horses. I know those poor people picking cotton could have happily beat all us kids jumping on those big old, long white bags they picked the cotton in. Grannies kitchen always smelled with the best meals cooking..Grannie had these big wooden barrells in the kitchen full of their own ground meal and flour, and she always had on the prettiest aprons. Granpa kept the milk in the well to stay cold. Wish there was a way we could visit back then for awhile. I need to apologize to those poor cotton pickers,.LOL. Those were great days, we just did not realize it then. I am a N. Alabama girl and it will always be home evn though I have lived in Fl,, for last 45 years. Thank you Nika1 for giving Dave the chance to let us all take this historical walk with him. Thank you Dave for the memories. So delightful.
New Puppy, you also have a great way of putting your thoughts down in the written word. I agree that Nika was/is a true sweetheart for sharing her homeland with us through Dave.
Through Dave's writing, I can escape from my little corner of the world and travel with him to places that I know I will never have the opportunity to visit in the real. It takes a good writer to bring the reader up close and personal and to be able to share the experience being right there with him as he travels through the present and what may have taken place in the past in faraway lands. ( since I am thousands of miles away here in the North, Old Florida is considered faraway) I envy anyone with the skill to achieve passionate writing. Dave has just that.
Nika1, I just wanted to ask if you have ever heard of Moundville, Al.? Years ago when I was too young to care about anything historical, our schools would take field trips there. It was mostly a playground at the time , with a lot of really high mounds of dirt, but us kids could always find arrowheads. A few years ago the university got interested in the place. It has now been preserved and A real history has been unearthed..... Forgot to tell you Dave, I love the photos.
Karen C~~ I love the aroma of lilac. How about you or were you too scare to breathe? I don't think the bull had his sights set on killing you. They only have one thing on their mind. I am sorry for laughing but you must have been one frightened little kid. LOL
My brother and I were chased by two black stallions and that was enough for me. We had taken a short cut through their field to a swimming hole in the river that ran through our town. I was never so glad to be on the other side of a fence.
Thank you, Margaret. I always liked history in high school; not so much in elementary, and if I had to pick my favorite era in American history, it would have to be the Civil War because it was so tragic. Having grown up in the north mattered none. The north may have won the war, but in reality, no side did. It was an American tragedy. All wars are tragic, but this one pitted brother against brother, and all that's left of that war are haunting memories and lost souls.
I sure am glad this post brought back so many wonderful memories for you; of growing up in Alabama, Grannie's kitchen, the aroma and everything that made you reminisce. That brings me so much joy.
Yes, thank Nika1 for this, and for you, I am delighted that you got happiness out of this article. That's my inspiration.
I'm glad you enjoyed the photos, too. I have a lot more to share.
Snoopy - It's very nice of you to say that about my writing. I wish you had the opportunity to go to these places, but I shall do my best to take you along for the ride.
I enjoy reading about your trip to Gainesville because the way you write it makes it seem as though the readers are right there with you. I have always liked hearing about the stories of the South and reading and hearing about it through your eyes makes it even better. Your pictures are very good and brings a lot to your article. When I was a child growing up I would spend a couple of weeks at my Aunt and Uncle's farm each summer. They taught me how to milk the cows, feed the chickens, etc. Reading this article brings those memories back. I always looked forward to my summers knowing I was going to be going there for a couple of weeks.
Nika1, thanks again for inviting Dave to spend time with you and for taking him to these places so he can bring back all of this to his readers. It is much appreciated.
I enjoy writing about my trip, too, Mary Jo, and if you feel like you are along for the ride, then I succeeded in doing what I love to do.
I don't think anyone could have better memories than time spent on a farm. I must admit, though, that I could never get the hang of milking a cow. Feeding the animals? Yes. Sometime, I'll have to tell you the story about my pet chicken, Fred. That little guy had polio or something, but boy, he sure did love me.
I'm glad you have such fond memories. I think the best ones come from childhood. Or they should.
Thanks.
We interrupt this program to bring you BREAKING NEWS....yeeehawwww
A Florida judge has refused to delay Casey Anthony's upcoming civil trial from a defamation lawsuit.
Circuit Judge Lisa Munyon on Tuesday denied requests from Anthony's attorney to delay the trial, set to start April 10.
Anthony was acquitted last year of murdering her 2-year-old daughter, Caylee. After Caylee disappeared in the summer of 2008, Anthony told investigators that a babysitter named Zenaida Gonzalez had kidnapped the toddler. A woman with that name sued Anthony, claiming her reputation had been ruined.
During her murder trial, Anthony's attorney told jurors that the babysitter story was fabricated.
A motion on whether the lawsuit should be thrown out will be heard later this month.
Anthony currently is serving a year of probation at an undisclosed location in Florida for an unrelated charge.
Now I hope the defense doesn't get the motion granted to have the case thrown out.
Sorry, Dave.... this is off topic...
Dave, here is the link to the info I just posted.. It was posted on my blog minus the link so I had to go searching to find the source.
Judge Refuses to Delay Anthony Civil Trial
[That's fine to be off topic, Snoopy. Nothing is off topic as far as I'm concerned. Everything is relative and relevant, so thanks for the link.]
This story evokes such a good feeling of nostalgia for me Dave. I feel truly blessed to have grown up with the best of both worlds. Being raised between a nice eastern suburb of Sydney and the family property. Some of my favourite times on the farm have been seeing my first wattle of the season each August, yabbying, riding my gelding, picking mushrooms after the rain, helping dad muster, helping mum cater at shearing time, going to the local bush dances, finding fossils, fishing, hand raising potty calves.
Worst times have been fires, floods, droughts, nasty geese, unfriendly bulls, feral cats, overfriendly snakes. It was a nice surprise to discover that yourself and many others here are from a rural background too.
I was a bit of a larrikan, used to deliberately bog the car to avoid catching the school bus then bog my gumboots, go home covered in mud and tell Mum my misfortune so I could help dad for the day. Id relieve the dead sheep of their teeth to get money from the tooth fairy. And im not proud of it but a feral tom cat used to terrorise me and bite me on the heels when I was very small. Finally, when I learned to shoot, he never hurt me again. Only animal besides snakes who were about to strike that I ever killed. Those geese were lucky to live, i'd get the jug cord or the belt across the legs because I'd drop the chook eggs from the geese chasing me, should have made them my Christmas dinner lol. I wouldn't go on roo drives and if an animal had to be put down I left it to Dad. We had an old wood stove in the original homestead and the scones made in it were divine. No tv til 1980 or 81 and no electricity til then either. Used to have a chip heater for hot water. We didn't have airconditioning at all. Not sure how we did without it but I don't rememeber ever feeling uncomfortably hot. And I was so pleased after bad droughts in the 80's to go primarily into cattle, sheep are so stupid and rounding them up used to frustrate me. The storms were amazing. I still love watching a good electrical storm.
I'd say you had quite an adventurous childhood, Tiffany, and that you enjoyed yourself. We have geese in the neighborhood and sometimes they decide to come and visit for a spell. Next time I go out, there's goose poop all over the driveway, and let me tell you, it's like dogs that haven't been housebroken. Messy.
I have to tell you, I wasn't familiar with potty calves, larrikans, or chook eggs, so I looked them all up. See what you're doing? You're giving me an education! And I'm the type of person who loves to learn new things. By the way, years ago, an Ivy League university put a rubber turtle on the side of the road. A lot of the drivers stopped to move it out of the street, only to find they weren't real. The next test was when a rubber snake was placed on the side of the road. Interestingly, a lot of the drivers veered off the road to run over the snake. They went out of their way to kill it. Obviously, snakes get a bad rap.
Oh, and I had to look up a chip heater, too. Fascinating! I think you have taken us on a great adventure, every bit as good as mine.
By the way, did you know that central Florida is the lightning capital of the world?
Tiffany~~I have one little question. What kind of mushrooms were they? LOL
I'd like a dollar for every gate i've opened and closed in my time and would like to forget the flogging I got for swinging on one. Only did it the once lol. Same deal with the clothesline. Then there was the paddy melon smashing debacle in the creek when it was dry. Dropping dads prize kelpie pup and blaming my sister...the guilt I carried for years afterwards I'd have preferred Dads wrath. I kind of made amends by saving her butt when she was throwing tools at his thoroughbreds. A lot of people have said to me in adulthood how very hard I worked as a kid, guess I did, but a lot was by choice and there was a lot of reward in it, and now countless good memories.
Not the kind that made everything psychadelic Snoopy baby lol. They came up great on the wood stove top with some butter and salt and pepper.
Before you die of boredom from my childhood tales Dave I just have to tell you one more thing, before I became a bit of an animal conservationist or even knew what one was, I used to go around helping Dad pick up the baited foxes. Except one time one was still alive, growled and scared the living daylights out of me. That season we took the best furs down to Melbourne and had Cornelius Furs make Mum an exquisite fox fur coat. She still has it to this day.
That's interesting, Tiffany. I remember my mother wearing furs, but that was many years ago. I don't think she has one today. I think, if she wore one today, someone would throw paint on it. I know that I haven't seen a furrier for years.
Thank you snoopy, I am not good at stopping and punctuating, often leaving the wrong thing said.
Thank you Dave. When you mention people who inspire you, I doubt anyone has or ever will inspire you as when you were a boy of nine and happened to have the pleasure of meeting Godzilla! I say pleasure inspired to the end of time.
A lot of things inspire me, New Puppy. I do remember going to the movies to see Godzilla when I was young. Plus other others. I'm surprised I don't write horror stories, but I'd like to. Very scary stories.
Thanks Dave. No I didn't know that about Florida being the lightning Capital. Good stuff! You obviously don't call chickens 'chooks' in America then. Or pen your Geese. They don't sound any more polite over there either. It was one of my jobs to collect the chicken eggs each day. The Geese roam freely here too and these ones would congregate outside the chook pen and then chase me when my arms were loaded with eggs.
Very interesting what you said about people veering off the road to try to hit the rubber snake. Australia has some very venomous species, most are timid and will flee if they see you coming, sometimes not though and that's one of the reasons why even though snakes are protected here
and gun laws are tight, primary producers don't usually have any problems obtaining a gun license.
We love turtles here too. Well, I know I did and do. Mum would have a fit because each time I
went yabbying in the dam Id bring one home and put it in the bath tub lol. They were all namedTommy. Paint would become an issue here also with furs worn in public nowadays. Back in
the day it seemed very glamorous. Apparently during the great depression selling rabbit skins kept
a lot of families from starving here. Unheard of now as well. Times have changed a lot everywhere
it seems.
Yes, my childhood was diverse and full of adventures. Not all great but never dull. Nothing much has changed and I still refuse to grow up. Before I began school we travelled all the way down the east coast of Australia, plus I spent half of each year in the city, so my poor Grandkids will cop an earful someday when I begin reminiscing to them lol. Anyway, enough about me. Your story is the interesting thing. Has me intrigued.
So looking forward to reading the next part of your trip to Gainesville!
Where I live, there's a small lake across the street and the house where the geese actually belong is on the other side from us, but our feathered friends are free to breast stroke all around the lake and sometimes, they end up on our sidewalk looking for handouts while pooping wherever they want. I've eaten duck before, but I can't say whether I've ever tried goose, but my father has said that we did when I was young. Today, I have no desire to eat one. As a matter of fact, my meat consumption has abated over the years. If I eat more of one meat now, it's chook.
We have a few venomous snakes in Florida. It's a subtropical region and that always attracts vermin. Snakes don't really bother me, but I go out of my way to not bother them, either. No, I treat them wirth respect because, most of the time, they are harmless and they take care of other critters we don't need, like rats. I'm also careful around spiders. We have some exotic looking creatures – some look like they came of a page of National Georgraphic. I just don't like to mess with anything like that, but I would never go out of my way to run over anything. As far as I'm concerned, everything has a right to live, and to run over a snake out of fear is ridiculous as far as I'm concerned.
Turtles are my favorite reptile and frogs come in a close second, but frogs are really amphibians, which makes them superficial reptilians. One of the things I've aleways wanted to see is a sea turtle. They are huge. Maybe, one day in my travels across America.
I'm with you on the growing up part. Other than looking my age, I try not to act it. I am always up for an adventure. Eventually, that will be one of the directions my blog will go into because I enjoy writing about it and sharing it with others. Meanwhile, I've go another Gainesville post to finish up!
Thanks.
Tiffany~~I know what a chook is as my 'Mum' came from England and I picked up a lot of the Briitish lingo from her. I remember my mother saying, 'here chook chook chook' when she went to feed our chickens. LOL My Mum always knocked up a batch of biscuits or if she had to wake someone, she would say, " I must go and knock them up." If someone was 'tough' in England, they were a hard worker. In America they are well... rowdy with not a good reputation. They spell Mum...Mom...
I am surprise that you never mentioned wrestling a crocodile but maybe you saved that for later. LOL
I also love a good electrical storm but am frightened of the wind.
Dave,as I was growing up, I thank God every day for my mother, She was a rock and I don't think today that I could handle her life. My father on the other hand was a philandering alcoholic and was absent much of my life. I have 6 brothers and 1 sister,and we all knew we were loved. My mother worked her whole life through to take care of us kids. She was a proud woman and there was never food stamps or welfare in our house, not even child support. What I am getting at is about the racial issues. My mother had this black woman that came to our house every day to take care of smaller kids and be there when we came from school. Her name was Sara, we loved Sara as we loved each other. I never looked at her and said ,Gee she is black. She and her family was our family. I never understood the race thing until after I married and came to Fl. One day I was going back home for a visit and the route took us across the infamous Edmund Pettus Bridge........I had crossed that bridge plenty as a young girl,, because Selma was the hangout town. Of course the bridge was blocked off this day, I was thinking parade or something. All of a sudden we could see people lined all the way across that bridge, black and white, walking across it.I did not know at the time that Martin Luther King was in those people. That day was a peaceful march and soon ended and we were on our way. That is the first time I realized Race was a problem. Sara was a part of my family until her death. I give my dear mother and Sara all the credit for who I am today. People were people in my mind. You made a remark up thread about our chidhood should hold all of the best memories . Dave do you think children and babies were treated as badly then as now, or are people just losing site of the value of life..I think Love and Responsibility meant more back then..
Gee, margaret, I can definitely relate to your upbringing. My mother is a saint, and I thank God for her, too. Her father, the reverend, was my rock growing up, and I will never forget him, either.
A girlfriend of mine from years ago was brought up in a very wealthy family. She had a black nanny, too, and she often spoke fondly of her. She was like a second mother and always taught the children right from wrong. My girlfriend's father was a well-known (in the area) cardiologist, and one day, the woman died suddenly of a massive heart attack. That family never got over her loss, and in some kind of ironic twist, the doctor blamed himself because, of all people, he should have known it was coming. He should have saved her. Unfortunately, there was no sign. He was her doctor. It was nothing that could have been predicted or diagnosed. My point is, really, that you can connect with a woman like her – like Sara – and they become as much a part of your family as blood. They loved that woman.
You witnessed a part of American history when you watched those people on the bridge. That's fantastic! Not that it happened, but that you were there. Not only that, but you had a woman oif a different color leave such a good impression on you. You are living proof that the color of skin is meaningless. We all bleed red, and we are put here on this earth to live in harmony. Silly me for thinking it.
Thanks for sharing your story about Sara and the bridge. I remember when it happened and I remember the struggle.
You ask me a very intriguing question. I don't think we, as parents, have changed much over generations, but our values have. By that, think about your youth and the meals you had, like suppertime, sitting around the table with your mother (or both parents) and siblings. Today, you don't see that kind of a Norman Rockwell painting as much as back then. We eat watching the TV, we eat while sitting at the computer, and we let a lot more outside sources in that shape our youth. Is it wrong? I can't answer that, but it certainly does nothing to bring us together. Remind me sometime to write about the dinner table and how simple it is to start a war.
That's delightful about your Mum Snoopy and exactly how we call to the chooks over here too. We also knock up a batch of biscuits but to knock up a person here means to get them pregnant. Some terminology varies between states. The only crocs around me growing up were imaginary, a school yard game where one person would be the croc and the rest of us would ask "crocodile, crocodile, may I cross your golden river to give the queen her royal dinner" Whoever was the croc would say "only if you've got the colour" then specify a colour. If you weren't wearing that colour you'd have to run for it and if the croc caught you, you were then in and became the croc. Like a game of tips.
Sorry to comment when it's not directed at me but Margaret, wow, that's a pretty remarkable sight you witnessed.
I just got home, Tiffany, but you can comment anywhere and to anyone. Everyone can.
Snoopy, I'll bet you have some amazing photo's and memories to share. Sure would like to hear about them some time.
Thanks Dave!
My pleather, Tiffany.
You know Dave, I must have read your post and everyones comments 15 times now. It is fascinating. Anything people share from the past is something I really enjoy hearing about. Can sit for hours and listen to what others lives and times were like. Little House on the Prairie, Anne of Green Gables, those kinds of stories I encourage my daughter to read and I probably near drove my Grandparents and older family friends insane through the years wanting to know about their lives but the stories are just so wonderful.
I really enjoy it, too, Tiffany. It warms us to each other when we can share and value each other's experiences. It brings us closer together. You would love my mother. She loves to watch Little House. I think Hallmark is her favorite channel. Actually, I'm a real student when it comes to the past. I have a tintype of my grandfather's mother when she was around 8-years-old. That's a real treasure of mine.
Tiffany~~Dad didn't mind Mum knocking up the biscuits but he had to tell her to stop trying to knock up some people. I am glad the it was my Mum who came from the old country and not my Dad. Can you imagine? Dad knocked up Mum seven times so he was too busy to knock up anyone else.
Oh the stories that my Mum told me about growning up in England. She was not born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She came to Canada at age 21 with a baby just a few months old. My dad was 23 years Mum's senior so she became a widow way too young and had to work hard to help put food on the table. She was a very hard worker and instilled that into us kids. You could not mop up a floor. It was down on your hands and knees with a scrub brush and then came the paste wax. She lived to be 91 and was bright as a button right up to the end and never ever lost her British accent.
Grannie visited us from England when I was around ten years old. We all sat around our huge kitchen table and Grannie showed us the pictures of London and the aftermath of World War II. I remember that she gave me a dime and took my hand and led me to the store and showed me what I was allowed to spend that whole dime on.
Thank you so much for sharing this Snoopy. Your Mum sounds like she was an incredible lady. Obviously instilled the importance of a good education into you as well as the work ethic as you seem very intelligent. What did Grannie let you spend the dime on please?
Tiffany~~knowing Grannie, I probably had to buy some white peppermints and give her half.
Me, intelligent? Oh good grief. BS baffles brains and I excel in that... EIEIO
If I am so smart, I wonder why Dave keeps correcting me....hmmm
Dave~~are you still tweaking? I put a new post up while I was waiting to read your part three...
Yup, still tweaking...