The tail end of April and the start of the merry month put a sizable deposit of rainwater on the ground over in Poverty Sink, and as I observed the torrent my recall strayed away to similar wet spells back in the days of my youth.

If the situation required, our whole tribe sprang into action when the first drop descended upon our defenseless roof.  We had already brought our dozen Brer Rabbit collection of gallon buckets in from the smoke house and Little Benny Wayne, John Franklin and I had spotted them around the four room expanse of our living quarters in the recalled drip spots.  The first drops would test our recall, but seldom did a bucket need to be relocated.  Years of practice had honed our placement accuracy to the surveyed dependability of the platting of the Ogalla Aquifer.  Our mom, Thelma, positioned her four buckets in the kitchen.

Hugh was a non-player in the drill and he sat with a smile, near the maw of our venerable old fireplace.  In the spring and summer it was dormant as far as fire was concerned, but it was handy as an ashtray for his Bull Durham snipes.  His smile was inspired by the thought of impact a steady substantial rain had on a crop of growing corn or the volunteer Johnson Grass that covered the black-land hay-meadow along the banks of the mighty Leon River.

“Like findin’ money in the street,” he liked to say, and then he’d look toward the ceiling and add, “Thanks Boss.”

Thelma had a milk can with a ten gallon capacity and a good lid in the kitchen for storage of hair washing liquid.  That rainwater was precious commodity at hair washing time.  The lid, of course, was to keep the flies and mosquitoes from the soft water storage.  It also cut down on the suicide rate of our flying wildlife.

John Franklin and I both had a spare bucket when a regular neared the full mark and the spare was spotted there while the collected quantity was poured into the milk can.  It was an operation to marvel at and it worked like clockwork.

Our old dog was balled up under the floor sleeping through the whole operation.

The floor didn’t leak.

Let me hear from you.

My phone number is 254-893-5063, my official postal address is: 333 W AYERS AVE – DE LEON TX 76444-2113, and you can e-mail Charles@CharlesChupp.com.