One of the fondest memories of my life came in the dead of winter. When we were young, my folks and Warrens were all friends with Marvin Sloan. Marv’s folks, Gert and Jess, lived out past the 16 mile corner, then hit the rut road just past Hoopers. The land was north of Lakeside and was referred to in later years, as the “old Eckman place.” Marv’s folks at that point in time were not youngsters anymore. So dad, Bert, and families in tow, would go out to help out “the old folks” whenever they were in off the road. (Railroad)
This was pure heaven to my brother and I. We couldn’t wait to get out there. It was beyond the most wonderful place to be. All the calves being born, riding the horses to move cattle, the haying in the summer, sitting in the apple tree feeding the horses biscuit dough leftovers from what would become lunch. Sarge, Marv’s super mean dang dog that hated everyone, and those stupid chickens.
Gert would always save the gathering of eggs for me, thinking it was something special to do. I hated the stinky, feathers ruffled, wing flying, hand pecking, terrifying chickens! I gathered, but was scared to death.
My love was going out to feed cattle. Taking the hay sled out, in the early, cold and frosty winter mornings. Tipping the sled onto its side, the tractor pulling the haystack on it, as it pulled the sled onto it tires. Then the old yellow Caterpillar pulling it along with my little brother sitting on it, ever so slowly moving across the pasture.
The cows mooing in anticipation, as we pitched hay off the side. It still makes me smile thinking of those hungry cold cows following us and how very happy they were for their breakfast.
After feeding we would all head back to the house for the best hot breakfast ever. Always biscuits, hot coffee, along with meat, eggs and pancakes. Sometimes biscuits and gravy. You never walked away from Gert’s table hungry. What an amazing time in our lives. I will hold this time close in my heart and memories forever. To this day, nothing excites me more than a drive through the Sandhills, and yes, I still moo at all the cows!