Tuesday, August 5, 2014

HOME AT LAST; Mrs. L. N.; West Virginia

My third book: The Farmer's Wife 1930s Sampler Quilt--Inspiring Letters From Farm Women of the Great Depression and 99 Quilt Blocks That Honor Them is due to be released in May 2015. I would have included the following letter in the book, but unfortunately it was too long. No matter--there are still 99 wonderful letters in the new 1930s book.

I am a young farm wife. My husband and I were both raised on a farm but when we married we worked in the oil fields so as to save enough to buy a little farm of our own. Finally, after much sickness and hospital bills, we managed to save enough to come back home and buy a small farm near my mother-in-law's.

When we came here, there were just so many acres of good land and an old log cabin for a house, with porches rotted down, windows broken out, and corn growing right up to every door. The sheep had been running in the house, and grain had been stored in it. So you can imagine what it was like. But it was home at last, and we started in with what vim and vigor we had to fix it up.

When we tore the old paper and canvas off the walls, we found pictures of the Civil War, and descriptions of Indian fights, so we were in an historical place.

We scrubbed, papered and cleaned from top to bottom and I arranged pretty pictures and curtains, fixed it all up cozy and bright inside, while Hubby built porches. Next thing we did was to put in a good telephone so Hubby could be called back to the oil fields to help pay for our home.

Night after night I lay awake with a baby on each arm listening to the limbs of the locust trees scrape and groan on the roof, the corn rustle, the rats run in the loft overhead.

Hubby came home once or twice a week, while the roads were good, but in winter not so often.  The winter was long and lonesome, with pigs, cows and a calf to feed, and milking to do, with an ear always turned to the house listening for the cries of a burned or hurt baby. Many nights I was up and down trying to forestall croup. And how did I feel when I went to the barn to feed, and found a man had slept in the barn loft!

But nothing really serious ever happened and we got through the winter fine. Now we have a new cellar and cellar house, a new barn and some new fences, the bottom in the meadow, the yard and garden fenced in, and are living fine. I'm very proud of my little log-cabin home.


gail said...

What an amazing woman. I'm not sure I would have been so brave. What wonderful stories she would have been able to tell her grandchildren and I wonder if that farm is still in the family?
Blessings Gail.

matty said...

What a wonderful story! I'd love to know where this is in WVa.