Like many city slickers, I can trace my roots back to a small Texas town. For me, that was a place called Memphis in the Texas Panhandle. My father taught me the benefit of hard work by making me farm with him during the summer months.
In addition to farming cotton, dad also raised a few head of cattle and the picture above reminds me of one of the places they wondered around eating. That old fashion windmill was exactly like one I would see everyday when I went to work with him.
Back in the 1960's and 1970', when I was growing up, there were no such things as cellular telephones or the Internet. When we needed to communicate with each other, we did it the old fashion way by driving to where that person was and doing it in person.
We did have CB radios and they were fun to play with. I wonder sometimes if the youth of today are so unhappy, because they never learned the benefit of a good hard days labor? My parents always wanted a better life for my sister and I and then we turned around and did the same thing for our kids. In hindsight, I wonder if that was a mistake?
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