The Gully

The Gully

8.5" x 11 "

Pencil

That looks dangerous

It started as a tiny little forked line in the soil of the field. As it moved to a slight downhill slope toward the Brazos, the line deepened until it was about the depth of a finger, then to the ankle, to the calf, to the knee, and, soon, as the line was followed, it was deep enough to jump into. The wash grew increasingly deep from shoulder depth to above the head.

As little girls, we were soon climbing over outcroppings of orange and brown hardened earth, shaped by water rushing to the Brazos River through the ages.

Kathryn often invited friends and classmates out to her family's farm in Milam county, across the Brazos River from Calvert, where we went to school, and most of us lived. There were all kinds of things to do on the farm, from playing games, looking at the animals, and riding her horse. And, of course, there was the gully to explore. There might be a couple of guests or a whole group, along with our guide who must have spent a lot of time learning all about that gully as it changed.

For posterity, we carved our initials into the sides of the gully. I've shown those in my drawing. I wonder if they are still there, or have they been washed away by rain and the gully filling during times of flooding.

As usual, I was afraid, but didn't dare to show it. But I know from my hesitation to do some things, the girls all knew that I was a big sissy. I was afraid that they might just leave me out there, lost. That we might encounter a snake or a spider, or who knows what might have been out there. Something from one of the horror movies that were becoming popular or from one of the outer space movies. Maybe an escaped Prisoner of War from the POW Camp at Hearne.

But, usually, her father wasn't too far away, in case we needed him. Sure enough, there was the time that someone sprained an ankle and we couldn't finish our tour. Her father came quickly and carried the wounded explorer to the house. And, another time, when we reached the end of the gully, and the River, where large rocks spilled across the water to a large sandbar, the girls all crossed the rocks, leaving me in the gully. We planned to spend the afternoon sunbathing and just talking on the sandbar. But, when I saw the slippery rocks, with water swirling around them, I thought of all the warnings I had heard all my life, about that dangerous river. How people were often pulled under water by whirlpools, and how there was unseen quicksand that would also suck a person under. I feared that I would slip on a rock and fall into a whirlpool or quicksand. So, Kathryn got her father, who guided me across, then came back to bring me back when we were through sunbathing. I don't think the water was very deep beside the rocks, but I was sure it was treacherous. Eventually, I made it across without her father's help.

I didn't add all the girls in my drawing who went to the gully at various times since that would be too crowded. But, I did show Kathryn, with her coiled braids, urging us to come on up and over the blocked place; Missie and Pat, on the left; Sandra and Shirley who are climbing down after carving their initials on the right; and me, fearing to climb. I added a couple of other girls' initials, who I know had also visited the gully. Kathryn's sister, Joyce, and my sister, Barbara, are not in the picture. Joyce was older and I don't recall that she hung out with us, but I feel sure that she might have visited that gully at some time as she grew up. Of course, we are all dressed in girls' jeans, rolled up at the bottom, and short sleeved shirts. My braids and ribbons have come down, ribbons hanging. We wore oxfords or penny loafers and socks, rolled over. Later, the socks had to be rolled over 3 times. Tennis shoes were not in style for anything except sports that required them. Sometimes, if it was muddy, we would wear cowboy boots on our adventures.

To me, the gully was like a smaller Grand Canyon. Constantly changing, and very deep.

My sister, a visiting cousin, his wife, my aunt, and I rode out to the Brazos River last Thursday, and rode through the Bottom from Bryan to Hearne. Something the whole family used to do a lot. We have seen the tv news pictures of the flooding along the Brazos and other rivers. The Brazos was flowing swiftly with brown, racing water in our area, up to the bank, but not overflowing. Since the dam at Waco was built, we haven't seen major flooding from the River. Before the dam was built, however, I remember driving out just a little way from Hearne and Calvert, and seeing the river out of its banks, as far as I could see. Houses and fields were underwater or floating away. This happened regularly, before the dam was built. I worried that the rivers would come into town, but that didn't happen. In recent times, there were other floods, but not from the Brazos.

When my great-aunt was married, the Brazos and the Little Brazos Rivers met. I can always remember the year of her wedding as that is the year of the big flood-1913. Because of the flood, it took the preacher, who was the groom's brother, three days to get back home after the wedding.

I wonder how deep that gully is now, especially after all this rain. I do know that we are all too elderly to be climbing in a gully, these days.

"The Gully" was drawn on cardstock using a #314 Sanford Draughting Pencil.

Be sure to enjoy the links I have posted, and share my blog with anyone who you think might be interested.

Rainy Sunday Afternoon

Rainy Sunday Afternoon 8.5" x 11" Pencil

Wouldn't you just know that it would rain.

After church one Sunday, we rode out across the Brazos River into Milam county, where Kathryn's family lived. I looked forward to playing and trying to forget about the dreaded homework that always seemed to remain undone until just before bedtime Sunday night. But, I spent the weekend worrying about it, and dreading having to do whatever the assignment might be. I tried to put it out of mind and have a pleasant time, with friends or alone.
Kathryn had chores on the farm, but she also had a lot of things to do-a horse to ride, animals to care for and watch, land to roam around on, and a big gully that ran to the Brazos River, that was like exploring the Grand Canyon, to little kids. Electricity out in the country was fairly new, and there was still an outhouse, until a new bathroom was added off the kitchen. They had radio, but there were few good programs on Sunday afternoon,at least, nothing that kids would enjoy. We didn't have tv in the area yet.
We looked forward to an afternoon of walking, climbing, exploring, discovering while Kathryn's dad read the paper and her mother finished up in the kitchen after Sunday dinner.
But, then, it poured. Rain slid down the kitchen windows as two little girls sighed and sulked, and felt there was nothing to do. Mud puddles formed in the yard. It was one of those old fashioned days of rain that I remember. No lightning, no thunder, no threatening storms. Just a nice, steady rain that lasted all afternoon. We would have gone out to play in the rain, except for the mud.
On one rainy day, we did go outside to feed chickens or some chore, probably had a trip to the outhouse, too. Of course, I came in all muddy after falling, and had to change clothes. Since I didn't have extra clothes, I had to wear some of Kathryn's, while mine went into a paper bag to go home to the wash.
But, now, we were a little older and splashing in the mud was not so attractive. So, we whined and fumed.
After the dishes were done, Kathryn's mother, Anna, just smiled and said she would make us a treat. We watched as she pulled out a bowl, pan, platter, butter, cocoa, sugar, vanilla extract, and all the makings for fudge. We anxiously watched as she stirred and added ingrediants. Kathryn buttered the platter while I stood beside the stove and watched Kathryn's mother, waiting for a sweet treat.
If I had been at home, our family would have finished up Sunday dinner, then my sister and I would read the funny papers and a catalogue. The kids might have gone to a Sunday afternoon movie at the Eloia, with a treat at Taliaferro's drugstore, or the whole family, sometimes in two or three cars, would have gone for a ride until supper time, and time for bed. (Somehow, that homework often did not get done until I got to school on Monday! Or not at all.)
But, today, we would get to munch on rich, sweet fudge, and I wondered if Kathryn's mother made fudge that tasted like my mother's fudge. I wasn't crazy about fudge. I would rather have a Hershey bar or chocolate ice cream. But, fudge would do. (You would never know that sugar was rationed! )
Finally, the mixture was ready to pour into the platter, and we got spoons to clean out what was left in the pan, as the fudge hardened. Well, we cleaned the pan, dishes were washed and put away, and the fudge was still runny in the platter. It was too far to drive into town and get more ingrediants, and the weather was too bad. We all kept testing the fudge and it seemed to get just a little soft, but still was very runny.
Kathryn's mother talked to us about what might be wrong that the fudge just wouldn't get ready, and our mouths were almost watering, waiting for the treat. She told us that you shouldn't make divinity in certain kinds of weather due to the problem of it never getting hard if the weather was too damp. But she had never had that problem with fudge.
We were beginning to feel like having a snack was a lost cause.
Kathryn's mother laughed with her rich, wonderful laugh, and reached into the cabinet, pulled out a box of crackers, and told Kathryn to get a couple of knives from the silver drawer. We stood at the counter, watching the rain through the window over the sink, spreading fudge on crackers, and munching away. I was not so sure that would work, but found it to be really delicious! We ate until the platter was clean, the rain stopped, and it was time to take me home.
I don't think that my mother was very happy when I told her that I wanted her to make fudge like Kathryn's mother, to be eaten with a spoon and crackers!
Later, in college, my friends and I would go to the movies and get popcorn and a chocolate candy bar to eat during the movie. That reminded me of rainy day fudge!
In my drawing, Kathryn is by the table with her blonde hair in braids that she wore coiled over her ears. Blue jeans, with rolled up cuffs were the style. Girls wore jeans for girls with zippers on the side. While I started with pigtails, and ribbons, my hair had a mind of its own. The ribbons were soon hanging and the braids were loose. We tried to dress alike and would call each other on the phone to see what each one in the class or group was wearing the next day. We weren't allowed to wear pants to school, other than our band uniforms or shorts for P.E. and sports.
My drawings seem to take on a life of their own as I work, with parts just seeming to appear-sometimes things I thought I didn't remember at all show up in my picture.
There is a technique called "mapping", in which you can start with a large piece of paper and a marker, pencil, pen, or whatever is comfortable, but fairly large. Start by thinking of a place, such as a house, then try to draw a floorplan of the house, or focus on a room. As you work, you will start to remember all kinds of details and stories that are hidden deep in your memory. It's amazing how things like vases, doorways, knick knacks, people, and stories will start to come out as you draw. You can go on to map out the whole house, grounds, etc, or stop and write or draw about the one thing that you want to focus on.