Southern living, Pt.3, Living in the Sticks

As some of you know, I was born in Greenwood Mississippi. The house we lived in when I was born and until I got out of the first grade was a simple little one bedroom shotgun house. It did have inside plumbing, electricity and so forth. Seemed good to me.
However, when I got out of school from the first grade, my daddy took a job in Rosedale, Ms, and we couldn't find a house to live in, so my momma and me went to live with my grandparents, in Coila, Ms., while Daddy roomed in Rosedale.
Now, as I have blogged, my grandparents were simple cotton farmers. No electricity, no indoor plumbing. There was a cistern (well) in the front of the house that ya dropped a bucket down into to get your water. Coal oil lamps sufficed after dark, the outhouse was about 75 feet out back. On Saturday afternoon, momma would pull up enough water to fill up a washtub on the front porch, the sun would warm it up and you'd get your bath for the week about 4 PM Saddy evenin! Now, horrible as it may sound, I didn't know any better. There was a roof over my head, I never missed a meal, I was never neglected nor abused, and I HAD A BALL!
I had no less than 8 cousins within a quarter mile, 3 of them were close to my age, and we played cowboy, soldier and so forth from morning til dark. Pete Floyd, one of my favorite cousins, was only a few months older than me and we were inseparable! Our favorite thing in the summer was to go down to the crick (creek for you that don't speak southern), and swim. Course the crick was only about 10" deep, but we'd waller out a hole in the sand and enjoy the heck out of it!
One of the things I remember from those days was on cold autumn nites, there was a panther that would run up the road screaming. It was a horrible sound. I would scrootch down in my feather mattress and try to literally wrap myself up in it. There were always 4 or 5 dogs around, but when that panther went a'screaming, they were ALL under the house moaning and whimpering. Wasn't a one of em that was up to chasing THAT cat! I sometimes wonder if any of that cat's ancestors are still around there.
Grandaddy would make molasses from sugar cane, I'd ride the old mule turning the sorghum mill and shoot all kinds of wild indians from his back. would milk a cow in the morning, churn butter, and bring in kindling and stovewood.
In the morning, my granny would ALWAYS bake a pan of biscuits, fry up some bacon and eggs. Course my favorite thing was buttering em with my hard churned butter.
Anyway, time went on, we found a house in Rosedale and left the grandparents. Spent a year and a half there before moving to southern Louisiana.
Stay tuned for pt 4, "My Life as a COONASS!"