DOWN WHERE THE APPLES GROW
This is a bonus Hillbilly Humor post in honor of Mrs. Huddle’s Grandpa’s birthday. This poem was written about him by his sister, June Macomber. It is based on an actual event. Today would have been his 91st birthday – I miss you Grandpa Weirdo!
Here is a tale, as old as the hills.
It’s full of adventure, comedy and thrills,
Its full of pain and full of agony, too,
And you should feel fortunately blessed,
It did not happen to you!
I’ll tell of a dirty, mean old critter,
And about a fresh young boy, who was no quitter,
And I’ll tell you something else you should know,
About courage and hope and “DOWN WHERE THE APPLES GROW”.
It started one day, late in the afternoon,
The long shadows told the boy he’d have to have the cow in the barn, “A little work” his Dad would say “doesn’t do a boy harm!”
Howard saw ole’ bossy at the end of the row,
Standing in the orchard, “DOWN WHERE THE APPLES GROW”.
Now, the old heifer eyed Howard with a look of disdain,
“So, its you, little boy, back again!”
“That pesky kid,” the cow thought,
“Why doesn’t he stay home?
He could be playing cops and robber
And just leave me alone.”
It was as if the little boy could read the cows mind,
“Come on bossy, don’t waste my time!
It’s off to the barn and you know darn well,
If you’re not in there soon, I’m going to catch hell!”
Howard reached for the chain, unhooked it from the tree.
“O,K., cow, you’re going to the barn with me” ….
But the cow tossed her head and jerked the chain,
And as if that wasn’t enough, she jerked it again!
She pulled that poor little fellow right off his feet….
And Howard ended up on the ground,
In the grass, on his seat.
As Howard sat there, among the tall grass,
He made a new plan, it could be his last,
He would work from the back and push from behind,
He’d give this a try, see what he’d find.
Well, old bossy was making a plan of her own.
And she thought it only fair since Howard had set the tone.
He walked round to the back of the cow,
And thought to himself, Just take a little know how.
He planted his small hands firmly on her rump….
The cow made her calculations… the blow landed with a thump!
Little Howard didn’t even hear the sound,
He lay mortally wounded, on the ground.
There were flashes of light in his brain,
And his stomach spun around again and again.
Now, the boy isn’t sure and he doesn’t care,
How that dirty cow finally got there… to the barn… But she did anyhow.
He went in search of another.
He went in search of his mother.
He poured out his heart and he poured out his soul.
And he told his mother his sad tale of woe.
Where did the cow kick him, his mother asked, she needed to know.
And Howard told her “DOWN WHERE THE APPLES GROW”
He expected a hug, at least a pat on the head,
But Mom called to his Grandmother instead.
Then, she called his Grandfather and she called his Dad,
She told them his sad story…. they had the biggest laugh they ever had! They forgot about Howard…. standing there, suffering in pain,
And told his story again and again.
Howard stood by… he waited and watched, they were having a ball.
The little guy couldn’t understand…. he was at a loss.
Why are they laugh he wanted to know?
After all, it was his two little apples,
That had been made into applesauce!