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Show 57 and clean it out? This would call for a follow-up action of dousing the coop with sheep-dip, a treatment for mites, using the manure to feed the flower-garden, which, of course, would have to be dug up first, or she would find that some old hen was inclined to set, which called for a setting of eggs to be assembled, marked with a bluing rag, and so on, and on. I used one of Mama's days in a short story: "A Day For Diddle - Daddling," and everybody in Joseph who could remember her recognized her from the portrait. Also, many of them recognized themselves, because Mama was a very human being. Papa always aimed at being in the field by sun-up, but we never made it. He planned his day's work in lieu of sleeping, and when he got it planned he began beating a tattoo on Mama's ribs. "John! It's only three-thirty! Go to sleep, " Mama would say. But the tattoo kept up until five and she would give up in despair, stagger forth from bed and start rousing the family. If we didn't respond to verbal suggestions a cup of cold water dashed in our faces (by Papa) routed us out, sputtering indignation. I was especially indignant when my hair was put up in curling rags. Once in the summer I locked the door so he couldn't get at me with his cup, so he dragged the hose around the house and turned it full force on my bed through the window. My curls were drenched as were the bed and pillows. In addition to getting up, there was bedding to spread on the line, a floor to be mopped. |