Rat Tales

My dad was an outdoors man.  From my earliest memories I recall him going hunting for weeks at a time and fishing in all kinds of weather.  In my teen years I lived with my dad and kept house for him.  After we moved from the city to Norfolk County my dad started fishing just about anywhere he could "wet a worm."  He still drove in those days and found the Northwest River Campground to be just the spot he wanted to be.  He quickly gained the moniker "River Rat."  I have lots of memories of dad on the river, but three really stand out. 

The first memory involves my son and Grandpa River Rat.  Dad had taken a part-time job at the Campground and took care of the store and grounds for Mr. Doughty.  My son was too young to go out on Grandpa's john boat so when we went to visit at the Campground, Dad would take Bee-Jay "fishing" in the minnow tank.  Dad would hold this "big" little guy over the side of the minnow tank and give him the dip net and let him catch minnows.  He was fishing with Grandpa.  What a neat memory for me and my son.

My dad usually was on the river daily, usually by himself. He knew every branch and creek that emptied into that river. One evening he didn't come in by dark and the owner of the Campground was worried.  He called me, and I called several of Dad's friends and some men from church and they all went down to the river to search for dad.  As the boats were getting ready to head out into the darkness, they saw a very faint light bobbing on the river.  Heading for that little light, they came upon River Rat heading toward the Campground under the power of a very slow trolling motor.  Dad contended that he wasn't worried, he knew exactly where he was, even in the dark.

As a teacher, I loved all kinds of nature.  My dad was very influential in nurturing this scientific appetite.  We always noticed the geese flying over, or he would show me tracks in the mud and we always had a bunch of hunting dogs somewhere.  One year my science class was doing a large insect collection and most of them were butterflies and moths.  Dad built a big box for us to display our bugs.  I wanted to have it ready for the beginning of school so Dad invited me to come down and go out on the river to catch butterflies.  I have no idea why butterflies seem so slow when flying over water but that was the case.  So on that Labor Day my Dad took me "butterflying" on the Northwest River.  His little john boat  was skipping across the water and we were swooping with our nets.  We caught quite a few, but the highlight of the day was seeing other people, fishermen and boaters, trying to figure out what that River Rat was doing with his dip net in the air.
A great memory and one I will treasure forever. 

The View at Night

When your house is in the middle of several hundred acres and there is only one utility light in the back yard, it can be pretty dark everywhere around the house.  We often left a flood light on to light up the driveway, but only if someone was coming to see us or if one of the family was out.  Strange things and fun things happen in the dark.  Being a science teacher, I loved looking at the stars on moonless nights, especially in the fall when there was a chill on the air.  One August it was time for the Perseid Meteor shower so we invited a bunch of kids and moms and dads over to see what we could see.
Not often does an family outing begin at 10PM but I was making pizza for the crowd and we had kids all over the side yard craning their necks to see meteors.  Not much was happening except the mosquitoes were having a royal banquet on all of us.  About midnight we saw a few meteors, but not at all what we expected.  We had great fun, ate lots of pizza and fed a lot of mosquitoes.

The other night time happening was more serious, and after it was all over, I realized it could have been really dangerous.
If you remember, I told you that part of the farm was a holding lot for young beef cattle.  Sometime they would get rowdy and start bawling and moving around.  One night the cattle got active and may have been spooked by a fox or dog or something, but they pushed through the fence and started wandering over the yard and into the fields around the house.  I called the landlord and he came with a lot of neighbors with trucks to try to round up the cattle.  First thing I knew, the cattle were running and I was standing in the middle of the yard.  Can you imagine what it feels like to be standing in the dark, no lights, and sensing a very large beef steer running close enough to you to feel the body heat?  I could not see him but he obviously knew where I was or maybe the Lord put a hedge around me to protect me.  I decided the wisest place for me was to be on the porch, and not in the yard.  The guys ran the cattle until they were tired and opened the feed lot and put feed out and the cattle eventually gave up and went in.  If you can imagine a polar bear in a blizzard, you can probably imagine a black steer in a pitch black pasture.  Yes, the view at night was good too.

The sound of freedom

The first night on the farm was Memorial Day Weekend.  Bob had to work, and the kids and I had a track meet the next morning.  We had diligently cleaned the house and moved most of the furnishings in, and Bob made sure we had beds to sleep in on that Friday night.  It was so quiet on the farm, even during the day.  I loved hearing the birds chirp and the tractors rumble by on the lane.  No traffic except farm traffic came by our house.  Occasionally, the wagon from the farm store would come by, it was destined to be a big event in our lives.  As night fell, and we turned the lights on, the little house at the end of the lane took on a friendly glow.  Everyone got things ready for the next day and we started preparing for our first sleep on the farm.  I locked the doors, left the outside light on for Bob, who would be coming in after midnight.  Just about the time my head hit the pillow, the jets at Fentress Air Field started practicing "touch and go" maneuvers.  It was cool enough so the windows were open.  I felt like the jets were coming in one window and flying out the other, it was that close.  I found out later that the end of the month is a big "touch and go" event at FAF because the jets have to use the excess fuel.  Needless to say, that night was a noisy introduction.  Eventually (about 2AM) the flights stopped and I fell asleep.   Little did I know that I would become so accustomed to the noise of the jets that they ceased to keep me from sleep.  As a matter of fact, to this day, I love to see the jets and their screech and howl are to me "the sound of freedom."

Looking down the Lane

The first time I saw the house on the farm was from the end of the lane.  The fields were newly planted, I didn't know what seedlings were sprouting beneath the springtime soil.  I could barely see the house, it was about a quarter mile from the main road.  There were large cedar trees on the north side of the house, a good windbreak to be sure.  The lane was dusty grey with ruts and holes from the tractors and farm wagons that used it to get to the back acres.  After driving down the lane we turned into a gravel driveway.  The house was originally a single-story building (some say an old barracks) with a two-story addition.  The addition was an attached garage with three bedrooms and a makeshift carport.  There was a large overgrown area directly beside the carport and a feedlot beside that where young beef cattle were sometimes held.  It looked pretty rough anywhere you looked.  Lots of cats, lots of cat food cans and a lot of uncared for property.  The lady that lived there was a housebound mother of two and she wanted to get back into the city something terrible.  Her husband left for work everyday and she was there with two pre-schoolers and had cabin fever.  She wanted out and as we looked around, knowing that it would be a lot of work, we wanted in.  We told the owner we wanted to rent the farmhouse and we planned to move in on Memorial Day weekend.  Sure there was a lot to do.  The house was really a mess, the kids even let the birds fly in the upstairs windows.  My husband was a real trooper, he did a lot while I worked at school, then he went to his night job.  As we left the farm on that first visit, I turned and looked out over the fields.  The sun was golden red and just slipping down toward the horizon.  Beautiful--the farm got its name--"Sunset Acres."

The View from the Front Porch today

It is a beautiful, sunny day here in my part of Virginia.  It started out as a cool morning, but has gradually gotten warmer.  I am testing the waters with this blog.  Must use my writing talent, and want to use it well.  Some postings will be silly I am sure, others will be serious.  I hope I can clearly project my view from where I am sitting.