Category: North Paulding


FB_IMG_1472602435724

FB_IMG_1472602446925

 

FB_IMG_1472602458043

 

FB_IMG_1472602468636

FB_IMG_1472602477379

20160830_211744

FB_IMG_1472602886650

Mr. Joe Burt’s home below Narroway Baptist Church along Murray branch across the road from the Baptizing Hole. This well served the church for nearly a hundred years.

“Trent. My mother & daddy were married at that well Dec 14,1924. They made arrangements with Rev  Joe Craton to meet them there after church. Seems everybody walked down there for a drink of water after church” – Doris Lance 

Joe and Malinda had six children. Oldest was G.S Burt who married Kate Crew

20160830_213225

Enter a caption

FB_IMG_1472603371033

Kate is my Grandmother Marie Crew Tibbitts sister.

Other children of Joe an Malinda:

George who died young

Charley who married Isabel Tibbitts

20160830_215120

Otis who did not marry

20160830_220145

Lela who married Leonard Tibbitts

20160830_215604

Ruby who married Robert L Ferguson

20160830_220617

 

Advertisements

IMG_93361-1

By Trent Tibbitts

Growing up on the banks of the Raccoon Creek,  I had often wondered where the waters went. I knew that they flowed north and entered the Etowah River some 10 miles away.  But how did they get there and what was it like along the way.  From a young age I wanted to make this trip.  I have made it a goal to travel the entire length of the Raccoon Creek and to eventually follow the waterway to the Gulf of Mexico.  But one step at a time.  I have covered most of Raccoon Creek, only needing to complete the uper most section of  a few miles.  However, I was able to complete a large portion of Raccoon Creek with a canoe trip from our property at the Ford, all the way to the Etowah River.

20150906_170221

It was Saturday  May 28, 2016, Memorial day weekend. We had a party at the creek  for Wyatt who had just graduated from North Paulding High School. Being a three day weekend,  I wanted to take advantage of the time I had. John had been at the party all day and had helped setup.  His wife and kids had plans for the night so he was free to do whatever. I told John that I wanted to canoe down the creek to the Etowah.  He was up for it. The party wrapped up around 7 PM. It took about an hour to get everything together and in the boat. We both keep our backpacks packed and ready.  John gathered his supplies, emergency food and clothing. I took an extra MRE. We weren’t sure how long we would be gone. I then loaded a cooler with leftover ice, drinks, uncooked  hamburgers and hotdogs. I had the bread, pop tarts for breakfast, candy and a few ofher things in grocery bags under the seats. I put my portable gas grill in the back of the boat. I was sitting in the back with the cooler between my  legs.  Both packs were in the middle and John was in the front seat. I was trying to video document the trip,  so after a short video, we were off.

We launched at the camper right below the Ford.  I quickly realized that I didn’t have my sunglasses. We stopped at John’s Pavilion and I ran back to get them. Good thing, I had left the camper door open. I ran back to the waiting boat and we were off again. The creek water level was down some. One indicator of how much water is flowing is if any water is running over the road or not. There wasn’t any water flowing over the road, all of it was going through the pipes. This made the shoals difficult to navigate.  We were able to push our way through some if the waters were to one side of the creek. Often this ment we were right next to the bank and the low hanging tree limbs. John cleared the spider webs out for me.  If the waters were wide going over the shoals,  it would only be a few inches deep and we would have to get out and pull the boat along. Most of the time we would keep walking until the water got up to our knees. Just below John’s Pavilion is a small stream flowing into the creek from papa Hollis Tibbitts original Lake.  The stream forms the land line between John and Carlton. We paddled past Carlton’s place and to the Poky hole.  A favorite swimming hole of my youth.  It is a small rock ledge named after a female slave of the McGregor’s who were the first white settlers to live here. Papa Hollis Tibbitts was baptised here. A few hundred feet on down is the remnants of a cable Crossing.  The inspiration for my zip line across the creek at the camper.  Only a few dozen feet on down is the Mill Branch.  It is a good size branch with lots of water. You can read about it in my other post. It does drain a large area of the Sheffield WMA. The old Tall Pine road comes down the ridge here. It comes from Dent Myers Camp. Dent owns Wildman’s in downtown Kennesaw Ga. I’m not 100 percent sure of how the story goes but I believe he bought that land from Alton Cates, or papa who bought it from Alton.

20160314_181435

Poky Hole

 

20160314_183906

Mill Branch

 

Side note about Dent,  he was hired to be in a commercial for Canon Ball Tobacco. The seen was Dent and other Confederate reenacters charging across a field and a Canon being fired. This was in the 1960 and was being filmed in the pasture where the sub station is now on Tibbitts road. A lot of people gathered to watch the filming. When the canon was fired, it blew off the wheels. Dad said Papa got a big kick out of that and would tell the story often and laugh about it.

20160528_200054

The Tall Pine road used to follow the creek down stream before crossing it just before where the power lines cross now. The creek has washed away the bank and the is no longer room to walk in some places, much less have a road. Once across the creek, the road is the same one that comes up by Carlton’s and then on by Fed’s house. When Papa bought this land it was a public road. He had to put a fence on each side.  During  WW2 War years, when Papa and his three oldest sons and his brother Maston with his sons were cutting lumber, they would haul lumber out of the mountains on this road.

20160319_125246

 

Below the Mill Branch,  the creek makes a hard right against a big Boulder and travels East. Then in a few hundred yards goes under the power lines for the first time for this trip. One of only two times it travels on the east side of the lines before Crossing a final time in Taylorsville.  As we cross under the power lines we are on the lookout for deer and jump one on the North shore.  A King Fisher then flys by. We didn’t go five minutes the whole trip without seeing a King Fisher.

20160319_111814.jpg

Cliffs

 

Just past the power lines is the area known as the cliffs.  Not sure how tall they are, maybe 70 feet or more. On top of the cliff is the Copper mine.  A shaft that goes into the mountain about 30 feet and then has a shaft that goes down who knows how deep. The well part stays full of water.

20160319_113144.jpg

Copper mine

A little ways down is some bottom land, the old Charlie Burt farm.  The farm was bought by Jim Grant, he operated Lama’s of Atlanta from this farm.  Jim keep exotic animals on the farm.  He would have several types of deer, Elk, ostrich, zebra, I’m not sure what all he had. The watershead from my land ends up in the stream that flows through his farm. Along with everything between mountain Road, the top of the mountains at the water tower and Burt road. The creek makes a U turn at the Grant house that is on a bluff just above the creek.  We are now going in a northwest direction.  It is starting to get noticeably dark. We spook Wood Ducks a few times.  Once being right in here.

20160529_085223.jpg

Camp

We pass our last home sight before going into the WMA section of the creek.  We get right to the edge of the power lines before the creek U turns back to the northeast. It makes a big upside down S shape here and as we enter the top of the upside-down  S,  on the left is a flat area about a 3rd of an acer. The creek is on three sides and a large hillside is to the back. It is truly dark now. We have been using flashlights while padding for the past 15 minutes.  We beach the boat. A good bit of water is in the boat and several of our items are wet, including what we are waring.  We pick out our campsite and start a fire. John gathered most of the wood while I started the fire. Once we had a good fire going, we hung our hammocks. Luckily none of our sleeping gear got wet. One of my pads did but no big deal.  We got out the grill and cooked up two hamburgers each. While the burgers cooked we stripped off our wet clothes and dried them by the fire. I had a pair of dry pant and a long sleeve shirt to sleep in. We had a armadillo come through camp. John has a crank radio and we enjoyed country gold to midnight, then went to sleep shorty afterwards.  I had set out a crayfish trap that night and in the morning had caught, with out any bait, 3 crayfish,  two small fish, and a small turtle. No bigger than a 50 cent peace. We keep the turtle for a collection to the Aquarium. It made the trip to the end, not sure from there what happened to it. Packing up was uneventful.

20160319_123419

Hill Climb at Forsyth Shoals

We may have gotten on the water around 930 or 10. John was now in the back seat. Just above our camp was a small stream coming in on the left. It drains a small Valley in the WMA. There is a old home place there but I am not sure who lived there. Could have be a Forsyth because not far from there is a shoals on the creek called Forsyth Shoals. It is just below our camp and is under the next power line crossing. The creek has a good rock bottom here and was used as a place to ford the creek for many years.  On the North side of the creek is what was once a hill climb for motorcycles in the 60′ and 70’s. Several organized races where held here and covered in dirt bike magazines of the time. At the shoals,  the creek turns a little and is running west. As we go over the falls, John sets up his camera and gets a good action shot of us.

IMG_93361

Forsyth Shoals

Past the Shoals,  the creek stays straight for 1/8 of a mile and then turns North and to the right. At this point is where the wildcat den is supposed to be.  I have yet to find it. It may have be filled in with debris over the years.  I think Joe built a box and put down in it an caught a bobcat.  Just a few more yards down is the stone fence / rock wall that no on knows who built.  We believe it was built by Indians. Papa Hollis Tibbitts said he played on it as a boy and no one at that time knew who built it. It serves no purpose that I can tell. It runs up the side of a steep embankment about 100 feet. It would have been 3 or 4 feet tall when first built.

20160319_131328

Stone fence

We saw a lot of different types of fish in the water as we went. The water was clean and clear.  Very little man made trash was in the water. We only saw a few cans and a few tires the whole trip, and most of that was closer to Taylorsville.  We saw lots of big turtles fallin off log as we would turn a bend in the creek.  We only saw 3 snakes.  We also saw a Blue Heron and a few Red Tail Halks. The health of the creek is very good. The best part of the trip for me, was to know how well the creek is doing and how natural it is.

20160319_122920

About a 1/4 mile on down from the Stone fence, is the Murray branch coming in on the right.  This is the largest amount of water to enter the creek below the Ford.  It has a larger watershed;  From Blue hole road to Burt road to Braswell  Mountain, to HWY 61 to the north end of Narroway Church Cr., to Clay root Rd. The branch was once know as Gold Creek and a few gold mines we operated at its headwaters.  I have seen gold come out of it before and one good nugget.  Narroway once conducted baptisms in the branch below the Church.  Many of my family,  including myself was baptised there.

IMG_93391.jpg

Not to far on down the creek is where Clay Root Rd cross the creek.  The road one ran the ridge top from the city of Braswell,  through the Braswell Mountains,  past Iron Stob, past Clay Root,  past Pine mountain,  crossed the creek,  crossed the power lines and ended on Narroway Church Cr.

20160319_112811

We then passed several cabins along the creek belonging to the Cochran family.  The Grindstone Branch enters the creek in this area on the left. The last large branch to do so while in the mountains. The branch gets it name from a mill that once was on this branch.  From the top of Pine mountain there was a road that turned south off of Clay Root Rd and followed a ridge down to Grindstone Branch.  The mill site was just upstream from where the road crossed the branch in a small Valley.  When I was young,  beavers damed up the branch and a good size pond filled the valley.  Dad and I counted 17 dams in that area at that time. The road was blocked by several piles of dirt dumped between the high road banks. This made great four wheeler jumps and mud holes for me to play on. Brandon and I spent a lot of time there. He and I hiked there not to long ago.

Just before the creek exits the mountains there is one more noted area. Harris Bottoms or Sand Bottoms is another area we used to ride four wheelets. There was a large sand bar that had a bowl in it from all the four wheeler that had done donuts in the same spot. It was always a fun destination.  Once I rolled my four wheeler in the creek there. It took several hours to get it running again after getting the water out of the engine.  Another time I came up on Jason Tibbitts walking out. He had run out of gas. That is a long walk so I gave him a ride home. John and I hiked this area last year. Part of the  Union army crossed Raccoon Creek here on their way to Burnt Hickory then onto New Hope and Dallas.  It has a hard rocky bottom for a good long ways.  We decided to stop here for lunch. We grilled the last 3 hamburgers and 2 hotdogs.  We had a nice lunch on the gravel bar. Up to this point we had a tough time with shoals . A lot of dragging the boat. I was hoping that from here on we would be in deeper water.

20160319_114007

I was right about having deeper water but the number of logjams exploded. Up to this point we had only gone under 3 trees. From here to the river, must have been 20 or more. Two of them we cut our what thru,  two we carried the boat around, several we lifted the boat over and some we got out and floated the boat under. The rest we navigated. If the log looked like we could clear under it, no matter how small the space,  John though it fun to gain as much speed as possible and see if I could duck to the bottom of the boad before being decapitated.

IMG_93451.jpg

Last Crossing of the Power lines.

We were now in the Etowah River Valley and out of the Braswell Mountains.  The creek travels through hay fields,  cow pastures,  cotton fields and small patches of woods. We cross a few field roads and got out at one to make contact with the rest of the world, having been cut off in the wilderness for atleast 18 hours. John made plans for Linsey to pick us up and we were off again. This was the toughest part of the trip. The logjams really wore us down.  We only saw two other people while on Raccoon Creek and it was a man and woman hanging out on a sand bar in this area. We said hello and kept moving

20160313_142131

Not much to report in this area. We did see one more deer in the creek. About the only history I know is that about half of the Union army crossed Raccoon Creek in this area also on their way to Dallas. (Different from the aboved units)  I read just yesterday about the men bathing in the creek and watering livestock.  May of 1864. We did travel about a mile or more along a farm where the owner had lined the banks with old concrete. We did pass one more cabin and just before the 113 bridge there was a house on the right.

20160319_114507

Once at the bridge we called Linsey again to give her a up date. From Harris Bottoms to the bridge was a longer distance that I thought it would be.  From the bridge to the rive is about a half a mile. We only had one difficult log to cross. We went under the old Railroad bridge for the line that travel from Cartersville to Rockmart.  People used to take the train out to Rockmart and the on over to Van Wert to hear Sam Jone Preach at Van Wert Methodist Church. It later became a Baptist Church. I have direct ancestors buried there on the Johnson side.  We went under the Railroad bridges that supplies plant Bowen. Coal is delivered via train. It is one of the largest Coal fired plants in the country.  Just passed the last Railroad bridge is the Etowah River.  Several people were taking a break from kayaking and on on the left shore.

We enter the Etowah River feeling a real sense of accomplishment. I don’t know of anyone else who has made this same trip.

IMG_93571

Confluence of the Raccoon Creek and Etowah River

From Raccoon Creek at river mile 128 to the Euharlee road bridge at river mile 132 it is an easy 4 miles. The river looked to be up but did not seam to be moving that fast. We quickly pass by the Etowah Cliffs, an antebellum plantation.  At the base of the bluff is a spring coing out of the rock face.

At mile 129.8 is one of dozens of fishing weirs along the river. This one is a little more impressive. It is in a very wide part of the river and is a double V. Lots of nice homes are on this section of the river.

At mile 130.8 is the water intake and discharge for Georgia Powers plant Bowen. The plant takes out 40 million gallons a day and returns half.  The rest is evaporated.  The returning flow is the size of Raccoon Creek and is hot to the touch.  The plant produces 20 percent of the power Georgia Power sells.

IMG_93601

Milam Bridge

At mile 131.2 is Milam bridge. Only the iron skeleton remains.  This is where in 1955, Grady Cochran, who was working for Green Tibbitts at the time sawmilling,  dumped the body of Patricia Cook, a 13 year old girl who he had murdered.  He used chains belonging to Green to weigh the body down. Grady was arrested at the job site. A relative who was a GBI agent was able to get a confession and the location of the body.  He was coveted and died in the Georgia Electric Chair. During the War of Northern Aggression, and before the iron bridge was biilt, half of the Union army crossed the river here. The Confederate Soldiers burned the wood bridge but the Union built a pontoon bridge in its place.

At mile 131.5 is the Euharlee creek. Only a half mile up the creek is the old covered bridge and the old mill. The sisters who ran the mill last had some type of dealings with papa Hollis Tibbitts about timber they owned. I believe he gave them advice on its value. Euharlee is rich in history and has a good little Museum. Well worth the trip.  You can tube the creek down to the river from the town.

Only a half mile more is the Euharlee road bridge at river mile 132. We ended our trip here. Linsey came and picked us up in my truck with in 10 minutes of our arrival.

Very tough adventure.  A little tougher than I thought that it would be.  But very rewarding also. I am very happy with the health of the creek and the amount of wild life we encountered. This completed a live long goal and a bucket list item for me. Raccoon Creek is a channel that I can take to my past, my history,  my family history, history of the land but it is always flowing.

IMG_93631

 

20160314_183906By Trent Tibbitts.

If you know me, you know I dig history. And I like Paulding County History. And I really like Burnt Hickory History. And I love family History. So as boring as this is to all of you. I was very excited over a discovery I made. There is a small stream flowing out of the Braswell Mountains into the Raccoon Creek very close to the house. I have exploded this branch all my live. One of my favorite places on earth. It’s name is the Mill Branch. So there has to be a mill, right? There is, it is an old mill site, just some small stone walls. Not much to it.

20160314_183124

Mill site.

20160314_184233

Raceway to the mill.

I never have given it much thought until this week. I asked dad if he knew much about it. He said it has looked the same all of his life. I asked if he knew who ran the mill. He said all he knew was it was called the Roe Elsberry mill and the old grown up road next to it was called the Roe Elsberry road. So, I started with this bit of information. I checked the Paulding County History books and found that my 4th Great Grandfather, Paulding pioneer Lindsey Elsberry had a grandson, by his son Joseph Curtis, named William Monroe Elsberry. I thought, could Roe be short for Monroe? I started digging more. Turns out that his mother is Miriam Francis McGegor. So what, right? Well you don’t know what I have known my whole life, McGegors owned this land before Papa and descendants of S.D. McGegor, father of Miriam, still own the land that the mill sits on. So, I found out that William Monroe Elsberry, who is my 1st cousin 4 times removed, was the millwright and his mother’s people, who are my Neighbors, still own the mill. I think that is amazing.

20160314_181435

Another note, the Mill Branch enters the creek below the poky hole. Named in horror of a slave of the McGregor’s, named Pocahontas who loved to fish there.

20160314_181626

This is where the Mill Branch enters the Creek.

 

Continue reading

By TRENT TIBBITTS

 

20140125_175341

My Papa Tibbitts, Joseph Hollis Tibbitts,  who was born in 1903, would tell us, as kids, short stories,  poems and songs. He called them speeches.  His mother taught them to him during his childhood, a time before television,  phone,  electricity,  computers and all the other modern conveniences.  These speeches were part of their entertainment. When he was raising his own family he taught them to his own children.  He gave each child one that was theirs to learn.  They would recite them while doing chores and one they learned it, they could be done with that chore. Around the age of 80 he recorded several and I have transcribed them here.  They tell of life on the farm in the Rural south.

 

Hollis Tibbitts recordings:

 

Number One.  The shortest speech.

 

A squral is a pretty thing, carries a brushy tail, cuts down the farmers corn, he shells it on the rail.

 

Our old Sandy sow is next.  Number two.

 

Our old Sandy sow she had a great long snout,  she stuck it in the potato hill and rolled all the potatos out. Same old sow had eleven pegs,  she razed them all on nuts and twigs. She razed them all to be seven months old. We sold them all for weight in gold.  So what we going to do for bacon now.  Sambo shot the Sunday sow. She jumped a fence, she broke a rail.  Sambo shot her through the tail.

 

We ain’t got no bacon yet.

 

Next the little bird. Truth in it.

 

Once there was a little bird that lived outside the door,  wanted to go inside and hop up on the floor.  No, No said the mother bird, you must stay with me, for little birds are safer sitting up in the tree.  I don’t care said the little bird,  he gave his tail a fling.  I don’t think you old folks know, quite everything.  So down he flew,  and the cat grabbed him before he had time to blink.  He cried, I’m sorria (sorry) but I didn’t think.

 

He should have minded his Mama and been all right. That’s the way little children ought to do. Mine Mother, be good.

 

The raccoon,  opossum and the rabbit.

 

The raccoon tail is ringed all around but the opossum tail is bear, the rabbit hadn’t got no tail attail (at all), just a little white bunch of hair. But in the night time, is the right time, so I’ve understood, is the habit, of Sir rabbit, to dance in the woods. The opossum was in the persimmon tree and the raccoon on the ground.  The raccoon said to the opossum,  shake me some persimmons down. Raccoon and opossum were both walking across a log, Raccoon said to the opossum, I think I hear a dog.  Raccoon and the opossum,  they travel after dark,  but they don’t ever think to be afraid to they hear my hound dog bark.

This is a fellow that had a yellow cat and he couldn’t get shed of him no way.

Because the cat came back the very next day, the cat came back,  because he wouldn’t stay away.  Old Bill Jones had troubles of his own, had an old yellow cat that wouldn’t leave his home.  He tried all plan he thought was new, none of these plans it never did do. Because the cat came back the very next day,  the cat came back,  because he wouldn’t stay away.  Old Bill Jones done what he thought was the best,  he gave him to a Niger that was going out west. He went around a corner and struck a broke rail, wasn’t a soul left for tell the cat tail. Cat came back the very next day,  the cat came back, because he wouldn’t stay away.

Now next is our friendly cow.

Our friendly cow all red and white, I love with all my heart.  She gives us cream with all her might,  to eat with apple tart. She wanders low, here and there and yet she can not stray. All in the pleasant open air, the pleasant light of day.  She is blown by all the wind that blow and wet by all the shower.  She walk along the meadow grass and eats up all the meadow flowers.

These speeches and sayings covers most everything on the farm in the old timely days of life.

Next is a chicken speech.

The old roster was named Barn Door. The little hen was Little Wife.  Barn Door stayed up at the barn and he said to Little Wife,  come along my Little Wife let’s take a walk today.  There is barely in the barely field and hay seeds in the hay. Thank you said the clucking hen, I’ve got something else to do.  I’m busy sitting on my eggs,  I can not walk with you.  The clucking hen had made a nest,  she had made it in the hey. Warm and snug,  beneath her breast a dossen white eggs lay. Crack, Crack went all the eggs. Out dropped the little chickens small.  Come along my little chicks, now I have you all. Good morning old Barn Door.  We’ll all take a walk with you.  Hello said old Barn Door.  Cock A Doddle Doooooo!

This is a cow in a garden. Don’t sound like it but that’s what it is.

When I went into my wherely whicky whacky.  I met old Boom Bicky Back and I called old Tom Ticky Tacky to come run old Boom Bicky Backy out of my wherely whicky whacky.

It was just a cow in a garden is all it was. The garden was the whicky whacky.  The cow was a Boom Bicky Backy. My dog Tom Ticky Tacky had to run Boom Bicky Backy out of the wherely whicky whacky.

Little Robin Red Breast.  This was mothers first speech that I ever learned.

Little Robin Red Breast, he’s coming in the snow.  He peeps in the windows while the cold wind blows.  He’s waiting for his breakfast with a merry song. He comes every morning all the winner long.

The faithful dog.

The only unselfish friend that a man may have in this world is his dog. His son or a daughter that he has reared with great love and care my prove unfaithful to him when misfortune sets his clouds up on your head. The dog will stand by his master in health, sickness and poverty.  When the wind blows cold and the snow drifts appear,  if he’s only near his masters side. When riches takes wings and reputation falls to pieces, the dog is constant in his love, as the sun in it’s joinery  through the heavens.  Finally last of all when death takes his master, in it’s embrace and his body is to be laid under the cold grave and all other friends pursue their way from the graveside,  there by the graveside may the noble dog  be found with his head between his paws but his eyes alert.  Fateful and true even in death.

Here’s another old speech that I learned when I was very small.  It tells you something little children.

Old lazy sheep now tell me why all in the sunny field you lie.  Your doing nothing all the day if what good are you I pray. Little boy I thought you knowed on my back your coat once growed. If no more knowledge you can show,  you better go to school and wiser grow. For you must be an ideal boy, you better now your time employ. Stop not over that fence and peep, but grow and be useful like a sheep.

This is a little girl speech about a doll.

Suppose my little lady, your doll should break it’s head. Could you make it whole again by crying till your eyes and nose were red? Wouldn’t it be wiser just to take it as a joke and say you was glad that dolly’s head and not your head that broke.

Now here’s a little boys speech.

Drive the nail aright.  Hit it on the head. Strike with all your might.  While the iron is red. If you got a job to do,  do it with good will.  For they that reach the top, first must climb the hill.  Standing a the foot gazing at the sky how can you get up there if you don’t never try.

Here’s some poems of ryms now. I’d knowed’em a long time.

Man of words and not of deeds, is like a garden full of weeds. When the weeds began to grow,  when the weeds begin to grow,  it’s like a garden full of snow. When the snow begains to melt,  it’s like the gardens full of himp. When the himp begins to rust, it’s like a garden full of dust. When the dust began to fly,  it’s like a Eagle in that sky. When the sky begin to roar,  it’s like a lion at the door.  And when the door begin to crack, it’s like a Hickory on your back.

Here’s about a common little house fly. Now lesson at it.

Baby by here’s a fly, let us watch him, you and I. How he crawls up the wall, yet he never falls. I believe with those such legs, you and I could walk on eggs. I can show you if you choose where to look to find his shoes. Three small pair, made of hair, these he always wears. So there he goes on his toes, tickling the baby’s nose. Spots of red, dots his head. Rainbows on his wings are spread. That small speck is his neck,  see him nod and beck. Little fly, mind your eye, for spider is near by. If a secret let me tell, spider will not treat you well.  For in the sun, webs are spun. What if you were to get into one. But when it rains, he complains, with his busy wings on the window pane. So little fly heed your way, little fly good day.

The Lullaby Lady.

The Lullaby Lady from Hushaby Street, come stealing, come creaping, with the popys that hang from her head to her feet, they each have a dream that are tiny and sweet, and she bringeth her popys to you my sweet, when she finds you sleeping on Hushaby Street.

This is the old farmer of years ago.

Come wife said good old farmer Gray, put on clean cloths this market day. We’ll be off to the nearest town, we’ll get back before the sun goes down. Old Spotty barked, Spotty wined, he maid up his doggish mind to follow along under the wagon.  So they went, the route not paved, joy came into the farmers face. Spot said he wants to come, but I’m awful glad he’s left at home.  For he minds the barn, he gides the cot, keeps all the cows run into the lot. I’m Not so sure of that thought said Spot. Because the big dog was under the wagon. On to town, all the produce sold, they got their pay in yellow gold. Started back after dark,  through a lonesome forest.  A robber sprang from behind a tree. Your money or your life said he. The moon was up, but he didn’t see the big dog under the wagon.  Spot didn’t bark, nor he didn’t wine, but he quickly cought that theft behind.  He drug him down,  in mar and dirt, he tore his coat, he tore his shirt. Two front feet the farmer bound, come Spot up into the wagon.  He rode grand and gay. A silver collar, Spot wares today. Among his friends and among his foes, every where that farmer goes, he follows on his undercoat the big dog under the wagon.

This is what king Kanbo wanted.

Mr.Frorg went a courtin, he did ride. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo. Had a big pistol on his side. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo. He rode up to Mis. Mouse’s house. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo. There he gave a great loud squawk. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  He says Mis. Mouse are you within. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Yes kind Sir, I sit and spin. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  He took Mrs. Mouse upon his knee. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Says Mis. Mouse will you marry me.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo. No kind Sir, I can’t do that . A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  With out consent from old Uncle Rat. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Old Uncle Rat, he gave consent.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  So they got married and away they went. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Where shall our wedding super be. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Way down yonder in a hollow tree. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  What should our wedding super be. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Two butter beans and a black eye pee. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  While they were eating what did happen.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Great black cat, she made a snap.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  The mouse went a running up the wall.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Her foot slipped and she got a fall. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  (The cat eat it up) The frog went a swimming across the lake. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  He got swallowed by a snake.  A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  That was the marriage of the frog and the mouse. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Neater one of them lived to need a house. A Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo.  Cairo, Cairo Captain Pharaoh, fem fom, shem shom, roddle bottle, Rig Bong Dum De Kind Bo. 

Well we have had a few funny speeches, a few funny songs. Lets get back and sing some that’s not so funny.  I will sing the old Uncle Ned song.  He was an old Niger long time ago, but we still got his song if he is gone.

Old Uncle Ned was a good old Niger and he died a long time ago. He had no hair on top of his head, the place where the wool ought to grow. So he layed down the shovel and the hoe, and he hanged up the fiddle and the bow. No more work for old Uncle Ned,  done gone where the good Nigers go. His fingers was stiff like the canes of the break. He had no eyes for to see. He had no teeth for to eat a whole cake, he had to let the whole cake be. So he layed down the shovel and the hoe, and he hung up the fiddle and the bow. No more work for old Uncle Ned, done gone where the good Nigers go. Old Uncle Ned was sitting on a stump. Just as happy as a Niger could be.  So Along comes death, thumped him on the head. Come on Ned with me. Had to lay down the shovel and hoe, had to hang up the fiddle and the bow.  No more work for the old Uncle Ned,  done gone where the good Nigers go. So his poor old dog, he lay on the grave,  howls by the light of the moon, waiting for old Uncle Ned to catch a opossum and a coon. Done layed down the shovel and hoe, done hung up the fiddle and the bow.  No more work for old Uncle Ned, done gone where the good Nigers go.

Well that’s the Uncle Ned song.  Heres another, sort of like it. Fits me pretty good, I tell you thetruth about it.

Still to come:

I am getting old and feeble

Rich old merchant

Put my little shoes away

Little Mary Phagan

When the evening sun is setting

Lost child

There are more that I need to record here but I want to get these published for now. If you have a story of Papa’s or a story about Hollis I would like to here it.

 

 

 

First Game

TCA 2009

Tonight is the first game of the season for the North Paulding Wolf Pack Varsity Football team. They will be playing Kennesaw Mountain at their field. Wyatt is on the freshmen team and will not be playing tonight. His first game is September 8th. Sarah will be cheering for the Junior Wolf Pack 7th grade team at East Paulding tomorrow. Can’t wait to see some football. Once we get rolling we will be going to freshmen games on Thursdays, Varsity games on Fridays and Junior games on Saturdays. Through some cheer competitions in the mix along with practice and painting the field for me and we have a full plate. Go Pack!

Update:::::::: NP 17  – KM 0

6th grade won

7th grade won in triple OT 48 – 46

8th grade won for the sweep!

Lets hope varsity can do the same the Friday.

This is where I can talk about things I like and that are important to me. I hope you enjoy reading my thoughts.Image

%d bloggers like this: