photo #1474884

Back when I was knee-high to a grasshopper, (YES I WAS, ONCE), my brother and I used to call this "Argument Weekend" instead of Labor Day weekend. WAY BACK THEN, when things were normal, this signalled the end of our "freedom", 'cause starting Tuesday, it was "back to the grind" of school. We figured since it was our last chance at freedom, we should be allowed to play and go around to our many forts around in the woods collecting our stashed treasures and storing them until next summer. Dad, however, had different ideas because he figured it was his reward for working all year, and wanted to go somewhere. Mother and all the relatives used to figure since everybody was "off", and it was the last time for awhile, it should be spent at a "git together" complete with food enough to feed Lee's army. Needless to say, we always found ourselves at "The Chisel Hole" north of Wilmington at a family "git together". Never understood that UNTIL I got married....... The men always got together under the big oak tree and talked about everything going on, ostensibly keeping us kids "outta" the women's hair while they cooked and klatched. All the kids would play tag, hide-and-seek, and run everywhere. We'd run up to Poppa's store and get candy and drinks that he'd "put down" on our parent's accounts. Then, my brother and I'd grab the rickety old rowboat and go play around, unbeknownst to my father. We used to get away with it a lot, unless it was at low tide, when a couple of the men went out to the oyster bed just a piece away and hook up about a bushel of fresh oysters using a cultivator. We'd row them out, and row them back, we just couldn't get out of the rowboat because we were always barefooted. We'd bring the oysters back in, wash 'em, then put them on a grate above the fire and cover them with wet burlap bags to steam them. It all came together with hamburgers, hot dogs, fresh cornbread, hot vinegar, Lutheran glue casserole, tater and macaroni salad, and anything else people brought. After the 'tovers were taken in, the men carried in all the dishes, and cleaned up. They'd haul off the oyster shells, then cop a squat under the oak, feeding the fire and putting seaweed on it occasionally to smudge the skeeters away. The lies came out, and got bigger and better the more the mason jars were passed around. At a certain point, they'd get careless and we'd sneak a snort while trying not to gasp and choke. After a while, we'd go out back of the house and grab our corncob pipes and light up some rabbit tobacco. After we were properly green and half sick, we'd stash the pipes and go back to the tree, and get another snort to "wrench our mouths out". My brother and I never did get caught, or Dad never let on that he knew. Some of the other kids did, especially the Preacher's kids. Then, the adults had coffee, and it was time to head home. My brother and I'd sleep on the way home, and stagger in to bed. Then, starting the next morning, it was back to reality. I never thought I'd reminisce about those days, but compared to today, they really were a wonderful blessing. In SO many ways. Enjoy YOUR "Argument Weekend". May you have many pleasant memories from yours into the future !