Little did I know as a child, I would write
my story, that I would share with others
my experiences many years later.
Every time we got settled, mama would
get the urge to move on. I know this
sounds repetitious, but it was true.
We would just get use to a new school
and all the rules, and make friends, and
then pull up stakes and hit the road again.
But we had a lot of good experiences, they
weren’t all bad. In one town we lived in,
there was a castle* pretty much in ruins.
But the walls had remained with a few
windows, and I would play in it pretending
I was a queen in a royal palace, it was
a safe place to be in the midst of all the
*Stokes Castle, Photo Courtesy of Atlas Obscura
A one room school had mean ornery kids,
they made fun of us, but then they began to
like us. We played kick the can and had
lots of fun. The teachers were kind and
gave us honey grahams with peanut butter.
I can still remember how good they tasted,
especially not having breakfast. Then one
more time mama decides to move on, back
into the little car we went. Don’t ask me
how we all fit in with our old black Chow
and now a couple of kittens. Summer quickly
passes and then onto fall and winter. We
really needed a place to stay, and mama
swung a deal. She was always clever at
that and we moved into one more mining
It didn’t have much in it but a potbellied stove
and a couple of mattresses, with an old red
quilt with big stitches someone must have
forgotten in the rush for gold.
It had four small rooms with an old lean to shed
on the back, a kitchen with a green wood stove.
When we were lucky mama baked bread and we
were happy. Then we would get french toast
and bread pudding if there was any left.
We were happy when mama was home!