Age 9, 1939
Well I may be exaggerating a wee bit, but I was forced to work. Both my parents seemed to be cooperating in the effort to at least slightly acquaint me with work.
My mother insisted that my bedroom be cleaned each week. Since I was the only one that slept in that room, I was selected to perform the weekly cleaning. Each Saturday, before I could go out and play the bedroom had to be cleaned. Now listen to this: the cleaning consisted of shaking two small place rugs, sweeping the floor, dusting a dresser and making my bed. Even at a leisurely pace those chores could be completed in about fifteen minutes. But at my working pace, I usually finished just in time for lunch and complained every minute. I can imagine my mother rolling her eyes and thinking this is the laziest child that was ever born. She once told me that if I were in the seventh year of the seven-year itch, I would still be scratching year number one.
My father obviously felt he had to contribute to my discomfort. I was assigned the weekly job of picking the dandelions in the front lawn. Dad would remind me as he went off to open his small grocery store that today was the day to pick dandelions. Remember, at this time there were no sprays that would kill the dandelion with one application. Also there were no neat little tools that would dig the whole plant out of the ground. We just picked the blossoms week after week throughout the summer. Actually this was not a major project. If a dedicated effort had been made, the job could have been finished in twenty to thirty minutes. But my working speed in those days was slightly slower. If I were lucky the dandelions would be picked just before dad came home for lunch.
I felt that a little rest and rehabilitation was necessary between the picking of each blossom. And so the morning was spent picking a dandelion, shooting my BB gun at a sparrow, picking a dandelion, playing catch with a friend who happened by, picking a dandelion, racing boats down the irrigation ditch that ran in front of our house and otherwise experiencing the sweet and sour portions of life. I think this is what the scriptures refer to as having opposition in all things.
One morning I felt that there must be an easier way to get rid of the dandelion blossoms. Maybe if I just stomped on them. The fact that it was much harder to stomp each plant into extinction than it was to pick the blossom never entered my mind. I spent most of the morning stomping every dandelion I could find in the lawn. The neighbors wondered what on earth was going on at the Hatches. That crazy kid had spent three hours stomping on the lawn. I didn't care what they thought. By the time I was through stomping, there was not a dandelion to be seen. I was so proud of my ingenuity and promptly went off to play. Dad was able to come home for lunch and then take a short nap before going back to the store. Do you know that by the time he left to return to the store that every one of those little buggers (the dandelions) had recovered and was waving gloriously in the breeze.
Dad expressed his disappointment that I had ignored his request and said those dandelions had better be picked by the time he came home that evening. So I spent the rest of the day picking a dandelion, shooting my BB gun, picking a dandelion, playing catch, etc. etc. etc.
Grandpa's quotes regarding politics and politicians.
Since I was not too proficient at working, maybe I'll become a politician. Following are some pungent thought about politics in general.
A government big enough to give you everything you want, is strong enough to take everything you have - Thomas Jefferson.
What this country needs are more unemployed politicians. - Edward Langley, Artist
Talk is cheap . . . except when Congress does it - Unknown
There is no distinctly Native American criminal class . . . save Congress. - Mark Twain
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