I was still a little girl when my daddy quit farming and got a job in town. It has been more than fifty years, but I can still remember him plowing with mules. I wish I had a picture of him with working with mules, but I don't. This one that appeared on Facebook last week from an unknown photographer looks a lot like him, although Daddy never used more than two mules.
I remember opening the barnyard gate for Daddy and the team of mules to come in after the work was done. I remember the smell of sweat and dust and exhaustion on them as they waited to be fed. A fine team of mules was something to be treasured then, although some people in the community had already been able to purchase a tractor. Daddy loved his mules, and together, they grew a lot of food.
The calendar pages kept turning and so did our world. Buying and using a tiller is much more efficient and easier than housing and feeding work animals all year. Still, it makes me a little sad that our grandchildren will not have memories like this.
Ah yes! Daddy traded his team of horses for a team of mules. What I remember most about them was the way they ran over the pasture, when he turned them loose after working them, kicking up their heels.
ReplyDeleteI do wonder sometimes, what will today's children have as memories?
When my grandaddy C. was asked why he didn't buy a tractor (back in the 50's when just about everyone had one) he said "you can't talk to a tractor". He died behind his mule breaking up a neighbor's garden plot. I always thought it was one of his most peaceful, happy times.
ReplyDeleteI grew up in what I thought was the only mule capital of the world, Lathrop Mo. Then I heard that there is a mule capital in California as well as in Tennessee!
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