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Welcome to the Funny Farm....Submitted by ANGELnWard14 on Fri, 11/22/2013 - 00:51.
Welcome to the Funny Farm... Where all the Crazies from the Big Cities flocked to escape the corruption... Where they could live off the land if needed and not worry about the stress of city life... Where they could work themselves to death chopping wood year round to heat their homes in the winter. Where they could dig deep to find well water or look for a natural mountain water spring to sustain life. Where they could barter and trade junk to survive. Where they could enjoy oxygenated air from the unpolluted lands. Where they could enjoy nature without the rush of city life. Where they could remember the hussel and bussel of the corruption and shake their heads. Where they could be labeled mountain people instead of city slickers. Where they could walk in the grass without worrying about heroin needles stabbing them. Where they could till and turn the land annually for nourishing crops to avoid the GMO's. Where they could enjoy seeing the moon, stars, and sunshine without clouds of pollution destroying its beauty. Where they could get exercise from walking about their open land doing "farm work" that is life sustaining. Where they could meet and greet to eat a big breakfast to include fresh eggs, home grown maters, and fried taters. Where they could live like the old days and enjoy home grown music without the techno beat. Where they could live in peace without sirens blaring and criminals running around them every minute. Where they could sustain their constitutional rights with pride-instead of being thrawted as a criminal. Where they could raise a family with hardworking values. Where they could appreciate life itself without chasing neon lights. When these city warriors left the big lights behind; they wanted a sense of peace of heart and mind that the big city will never give 'em. When these hometown heros put their boots on the ground; they didn't ask for anything but respect and that was met with total contempt. So; the retreated to the woods...mountains....and country...and there they remain........ While I won't argue their choices; I also know that I have been spoiled by the commodities of city living....fresh water, natural gas, and accessibility. Living in the country requires dedication, an outlook, planning, and cyclic hard work to maintain the lifestyle. It's a challenge and it requires hardwork. People in the country are getting up at 0400 in the morning and out the door by 0500 and going to bed by 8pm to do it all over again....and the dirt is clean; not polluted with lead paint and toxins. But; it's all part of the process. It's intriguing to see how others live like this for generations and lifetimes..............makes me want to liquidate and get an APARTMENT!!!! But then again; if the kids are part of the process; then life can be much better....much healthier.....but the same drama remains---no matter where you go....corruption that is. A discussion today revealed that even in these seemingly awesome little towns of wholesome people---there are a ton of people who'd slit your throat in a heartbeat over some silly stuff. So; whereever you are; it's up to you to know your community at large....city, mountains, country, whereever................we all live near a fudged up part of the planet earth...............so enjoy! You might just find out that the Funny Farm is really full of looneys! It nourishes and grows nuts. It feeds the weasels. It consumes the weak. It provides an alternative for the meek. It's humble location provides a breath of fresh air to all the crazies. It revitalizes them and provides a sense of safety away from all the hogwash left behind. The funny farm may keep you laughing with people telling the truth. The funny farm may have floors covered in bodies of folks with nowhere else to go; but they get fed and cared for through their periods of transition. The funny farm has always been a haven away from the unreal reality of the big city....prayerfully---the generations will continue to sustian it.
Where they could bury their deceased on the land
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My father was a soil conservationist for the gvt, farmed
He farmed before work and after work and weekends (except for church on Sunday and a big family meal.) He could beat my first husband easily shoveling manure from our cows.
I collected eggs our hens laid.
He and my mother loved farming. They never took a vacation, saw only two movies I remember: As a child they took me to a rerun of Gone with the Wind and went alone to see The Bridge on the River Kwai.
(I cried during the burning of Atlanta, and said "I hate the Yankees! My mother said, "you are a Yankee!" So I learned early that what I was a part of did not always do good things to people but bad, and war was horrible.)
The small town near our farm still has good people, but my nephew now says there are drug dealers there, the factories were either sold, transferred offshore or closed, so it is now a bedroom community. No jobs.
The local bank would not cash a check for my first husband until he said he was Don Hinkle's son-in-law. Then they cashed it, as they knew that if it bounced my father would make it good.
My dad's word was his bond, and everyone knew that. I was taught to be th same.,
The farm we moved to had no indoor plumbing. Dad had a college degree when many didn't finish high school. After Grandfather put a shotgun in his mouth and pulled the trigger, because he was so ashamed the bank he was chairman of failed and lost the money of those who had trusted him (He was related to everyone in the tiny town also,) they lost the dairy farm business. Eventually dad got a job driving a milk truck, and was glad to get it. He lost one job because he refused to lie. He said it all worked out for the best, and the company failed, he would have no pension, but he got a job with Soil Conservation, and his government pension went up with inflation.
My mother had a two-year college degree all that was needed to teach. She bought one of the first Model T Fords, for $ I think it was. A year's salary. She taught in a one-room schoolhouse and was proud one of her students became an M.D.
My family saved, put in plumbing, saved and refinished, etc. I was told never to go into debt except for a house. Cars were bought with cash. They saved bread wrappers, smoothed out and re-used tinfoil. When we put in a furnace, it only heated the downstairs, we had a coal burning stove downstairs, the heat didn't rise much through the registers in the floor upstairs, so I hated to get out of bed in the winter, when I did I rushed downstairs to stand in front of the coal stove.
We had a big garden and my mother canned and froze. After dad killed a cow, hung it to age, they turned off all heat so the house was cold and dad cut up the beef and mother and I wrapped it in freezer paper and sealed it with freezer tape.
The lights would go out, so we have kerosene lanterns, as I do now.
Once there was a drought, so there was no water in the system and the springs were dry. We had to buy water. We did not flush the toilet until necessary. When the toilet wouldn't flush, dad took a bucket and filled it with water from somewhere (I store extra in a huge, rolling garbage bin.), swirled it and tossed it in the toilet and it would flush.
My neighbors grew yellow tomatoes, we didn't, so we traded. People would trade cuttings of flowers. I never had to buy plants, it hurt me when I had no takers when I divided my plants, so I planted them across the street, after pulling all the weeds, and made a garden across the street, until the bridge builders destroyed it.)
Mother put empty milk cartons filled with water in the freezer for when the power went out.
People watched out for others, if I did something even slightly wrong, my mother would be told.
There was one Jewish family, one Greek family, one Japanese family, and a handful of Catholics, until Beta Shoe came to town, no blacks. I often say I am not bigoted because my town was so bigoted, there was no one there to call names. I never hear the work "kike" until I went to college.
I prerred, and still prefer a less homogenous population, and I love the ethnic diversity in Cleveland, but:
Country people are the salt of the earth!