While my father, Curtis Duncan, was fighting his battle with cancer, DeLois Tittle wrote him several letters, telling him how the crops were doing and did some reminiscing along with it. DeLois works at Half Moon Farms. She grew up in this area and went to Dell School. With her permission I have added some of her letters to this site, hoping her words might bring back some memories to those who spent their childhood growing up on the farm.
June 8, 2005Dear Mr. Duncan,
Well farming is in full swing and things are busy. We could surely use a rain, but that will come when the good Lord deems it to be time. The crops are looking good and hopefully this will be a good year for all of us. We tried to cut wheat yesterday but the moisture is still too high so we have put it on the back burner for a few days. Tons of fertilizer are being put out and we are using the pivots where we have them. Of course there are the usual problems of flats and the men running out of chemicals faster than Randy can service them all. . .I once had a dream of owning maybe 40 acres of ground for him to farm. . .I suppose because I came from a farming background and have never lost my amazement at the constant replenishing of the earth which made me want some land so badly. So I still stay close to my roots in my profession and rejoice as do the men when spring finally arrives and we smell the soil and know when it's time to plant. You know exactly what I mean. When I was a child we learned which soils would make the best mud cakes by the feel and the smell. Of course my mom did not always share our enthusiasm when she would find out we were taking her eggs for the batter. Once I slipped into a hen house to steal some eggs from underneath a chicken. I had seen my mother do it many times, but she would put the egg back. That was very confusing to me until I took the egg and did not put it back into the nest. I learned what a setting hen was in a way I never forgot. She clawed and pecked me and my mother came running when she heard my screams. I was still holding the egg when she arrived. She took it from my hand and returned it to the nest and the hen was happy. I was too young to realize she was preparing for the baby chicks with those eggs. That was one time I did not get a spanking as my mother felt I had already had one which would leave an indelible impression on me. She was certainly correct. Did I quit stealing the eggs? Certainly not, I just made sure I got them from a nest which did not have a hen sitting atop. As I said I came from the farm in the most practical sense. I can still see the ladies around the quilting frames and remember when I first learned to piece a quilt. All was done by hand and sewed with love making many memories from the fabrics used and the time shared with neighbors. How different from today in this fast paced world. The generations which have followed us have lost a great heritage which could only result from the experience and never realized by our sharing in word the lessons of life we learned. How lucky we are to have those memories and foundation upon which to call when we need them....
PLOWS AND WHEELS FROM BURDETTE PLANTATION June 21, 2005Hello,
Well it's definitely summertime in the delta and I am glad you are inside and cool. It seems as it gets hotter my errands increase or perhaps I just notice it more. As I am cold natured the heat is a welcome experience for me but as I recall the days when I was chopping cotton it was not always so welcome especially when the wind was so hot and dry. How we longed for some rain and on those nights when it would rain the sound of the spatters heard through an open window were so relaxing and gave the night breeze a cool breath. We did not have an air conditioner and a fan for each bedroom was a luxury not easily afforded. In preparation of the coming summers, we always had to make sure the screens were in good order. That's how I learned to cross stitch though that was not the terminology we used. The term then was just patching the screens. It was certainly effective. When growing up on the farm and arising at 4:30AM to help with breakfast and be in the field by 6:00AM, I had all the fantasies of most farm kids to get a job when I grew up that would not require getting up before daylight. I would sit on the back porch fighting the mosquitoes and make all the plans for my future. The warm nights were filled with the perfume of honeysuckle and gently wisped me away into dreams and aspirations. The next day however was filled with the reality of my present plight but my nights were always there to keep my dreams alive. At this time of year we were looking forward to July as the crops would be layed by. Though getting relief from the chopping there was more work to do as this time was for canning and quilting. Children always worked from an early age so gardening, canning sewing skills were as much a part of our education as going to school. Some would view my childhood as difficult but it really was not. Life was slower and a much gentler time than the busy schedules of present days and filled with love and security. We had no reason to lock our doors at night and could never have imagined the crime of today. I am so glad I have that heritage and the strength it gave me to cope with all the things that happen in life. How lucky I was to have a good foundation which was provided by good Christian parents. Farming has changed so much since then and how I wish my dad could have lived to see the wonders of it all. The cotton here was more than head high and picked by hand rather than machines so it could be grown even on poor black dirt and nothing will ever be as good as watermelons picked directly from the vine when ripe. Filled with sweet goodness we always ate too much of them and of course the rinds were the choice weapon against siblings and friends. Thanks for going down memory lane with me and perhaps it has stirred some sweet memories for you of days long since gone, but never forgotten. All the promises made I find myself getting up at 4:30AM every morning so I can be at work by 6:00. I suppose old habits are hard to die, but you know I probably wouldn't have it any other way...
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| THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER |
