Chapter 3 ~ Page 43
Having had a rattler 'for dinner,' I began to feel a bit guilty for responding out of fear. A day didn't go by without seeing at least one of these poor creatures simply trying to defend his territory. Someone would yell, "Snake on the right," and we would give him plenty of room as we rode by.
What really changed our thinking about rattlers was a dumb joke of mine: "Hey Bernadette," I yelled back to her one day," Why is a rattlesnake like a puppy dog?"
"I don't know Dad, why is a rattlesnake like a puppy dog?"
"Because, every time we see one, he wags his tail."
Rattlesnakes are not really the ferocious killers their reputations proclaim. Without them the balance of life in the desert would be seriously upset. So, whenever they didn't menace us—as having a snake in the grass for company at camp—we left them alone.
What with a half starved to death horse, and snakes, what worried the children more was having been called "dumb." Since they technically were playing hooky, this was why we had 25 pounds of school books along. Half consisted of a new math series, programmed similar to machine taught lessons. And, an English series, also in the vogue everywhere. By following the teachers outline Bernice and I were supposed to be able to help our children advance at the same rate as their ex-classmates. Unfortunately, the only thing the younger members of the family learned from the books were new cuss words every morning when I had to find room to stow them into a top pack. Finally the new math was put to an old use. I began to light fires with the pages.
To make up for this crime against society, and to pass the time during dull miles, my wife would quiz us all on multiplication tables. I know this is terribly old fashioned, but it did work. Soon everyone except Dad could cipher a problem as: if one horse travels two feet forward each time he takes a step: and he has four feet, and we have 12 horses going 2, 500 miles—then how many hoofprints will we leave from Mexico to Canada?
Only BJ and James could successfully read in the saddle without suffering motion sickness. Their limited library happened to consist of James' American History text, which they both read many times through, with much discussion. The irony of this was that James hadn't cracked it open once when he was supposed to when in class, or for homework. Maybe this proves the point in what a teacher said to us later in answer to our worries about our children advancing to the next grade—"I've always said, don't let schooling interfere with a child's education."
What really changed our thinking about rattlers was a dumb joke of mine: "Hey Bernadette," I yelled back to her one day," Why is a rattlesnake like a puppy dog?"
"I don't know Dad, why is a rattlesnake like a puppy dog?"
"Because, every time we see one, he wags his tail."
Rattlesnakes are not really the ferocious killers their reputations proclaim. Without them the balance of life in the desert would be seriously upset. So, whenever they didn't menace us—as having a snake in the grass for company at camp—we left them alone.What with a half starved to death horse, and snakes, what worried the children more was having been called "dumb." Since they technically were playing hooky, this was why we had 25 pounds of school books along. Half consisted of a new math series, programmed similar to machine taught lessons. And, an English series, also in the vogue everywhere. By following the teachers outline Bernice and I were supposed to be able to help our children advance at the same rate as their ex-classmates. Unfortunately, the only thing the younger members of the family learned from the books were new cuss words every morning when I had to find room to stow them into a top pack. Finally the new math was put to an old use. I began to light fires with the pages.
To make up for this crime against society, and to pass the time during dull miles, my wife would quiz us all on multiplication tables. I know this is terribly old fashioned, but it did work. Soon everyone except Dad could cipher a problem as: if one horse travels two feet forward each time he takes a step: and he has four feet, and we have 12 horses going 2, 500 miles—then how many hoofprints will we leave from Mexico to Canada?
Only BJ and James could successfully read in the saddle without suffering motion sickness. Their limited library happened to consist of James' American History text, which they both read many times through, with much discussion. The irony of this was that James hadn't cracked it open once when he was supposed to when in class, or for homework. Maybe this proves the point in what a teacher said to us later in answer to our worries about our children advancing to the next grade—"I've always said, don't let schooling interfere with a child's education."
|
|
|
Text and Photographs © Barry Murray 1971-2007 Mac&Murray Multimedia