SoCS

SoCS – Battle at the Corn Crib

Day 199

It is time for yet another post from Linda Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday (SoCS).

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rib.” Use it as a word, or find a word with “rib”in it. As always, use any way you’d like. Enjoy!


THIS POST MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR THE SQUEAMISH OR ANTI-GUN FOLKS. IT IS HOWEVER AN ACCURATE PORTRAYAL OF MY MOTHER’S LIFE ON THE FARM.

My mom was a bit of a badass, but when she was growing up, she was even more so.

She grew up on a farm so chores were a daily part of life.

They grew corn to feed the cows and the pigs — we called it field corn. It was stored in a corn crib.

The corn crib was a rough-hewn building with slats spaced apart so the air could get to the corn and allow it to dry. As you can imagine, a building with such openings allows more than just air to get inside. It also made it easy access for the rats!

Mom always told the story of the year the rats were so bad, they had to take drastic measures.

Mom, her three brothers and two sisters would all take position seated around the corn crib with a .22 caliber rifle while my grandfather and the dog rustled the rats out. Remember, these were big well-fed farm rats.

All was going as planned until one of the rats managed to scurry toward my mom and straight up her pants leg.

This is when the dog (I wish I could remember his name) took off toward mom, grabbed the rat by the hind quarters, and pulled it out of mom’s pant leg.

The rats lost the battle of the corn crib that day.

Disclaimer: I am not a fan of guns although I grew up around them. It would take a lot for me to kill any animal — even a rat.


If you would like to join in the SoCS fun, amble on over to Linda’s blog for the rules. Thanks as always, Linda!

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18 thoughts on “SoCS – Battle at the Corn Crib”

  1. Stumbled on your blog (sorry don’t remember how!) and am now following. I think all farm Mama’s have gotta be ‘bad asses’. Seriously.
    I think, after reading a few of your other posts, that you’ve inherited that trait which manifests itself in a myriad of ways.
    BTW: clever use of (c)ribs for your prompt post!
    peace

    Liked by 1 person

  2. We live in a mobile home park (an old one) in the Inland Empire of California. We all have palm trees near our homes, and the rats nest in them, and we can hear them coming down at night. They can get into our homes via the pipes for the utilities, or the least little hole. If they can get past the outside metal siding and bottom metal, they will gnaw their way in through whatever wood spot or hole they can. A couple of weeks ago one got in our home, and I opened the cupboard beneath the bathroom sink and came face to face with one. I had Richard, my significant other, get a pellet gun and shoot it. I am sorry but we had no traps at the time, for we had not had the problem before (though our neighbors had). Like others here, I could not stand the thoughts of a rat getting into our food or perhaps biting one of us or our dogs. They are all Chihuahuas, and all seniors and some of them with physical challenges too – rescues. So while I am not fond of guns, I was so glad we could take care of the situation. I get along with most creatures, but rats are not one of them. Thank you for sharing your story too. It gives me chills to think about it.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Anne, when we lived in Florida we had citrus rats and they are HUGE. So many of the fruit trees have been cut down that they used to eat under our bird feeders. Having them get into your home is unacceptable. I would have died had I come face-to-face with one. It is amazing what small spaces they can traverse.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. They are definitely not welcome in this house either. You are right about what small spaces they can come through. So far the ones I have seen are not huge, but when we were in Okinawa at the end of the war, we had traps out and used to catch huge ones that were almost as big as cats. They are the water rats (I think). I think they can go on ships too. Horrible. I remember asking my mom (I was in 4th grade at the time I think) if the traps hurt the rats and she lied, so one night I snuck out and stuck my big toe in one to see for myself. Oh yes, they sure do hurt. My toe was broken. And my dad whipped me for doing that when they had company late at night. Well, at least that is one lesson learned!

        Liked by 1 person

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