Family,My Lord, My Country,My Heart Song and Verse by N. Lee Austin a pilgrim by N.LEE AUSTIN

Hello Poets!
Needed to change the HOME page. Don't you wish we could do that? Click a mouse and go home!
Well I'm called the pilgrim, why, because my mom who gave birth to fifteen of us, labeled me
DIFFERENT! First always. How I wish things didn't have to change. We grew up in a tarpaper shack
built mostly by mom. Daddy built the first room,so mama and the babies could sleep indoors while
while the rest slept in the tent. Daddy had to work too so mom just kept building. What a home it
was. She built it as she needed it. I can rember the kitchen being in three different places.
It finally ended up with three double bedrooms, a 10x10 living room, and a very large kitchen,
with a wayback kitchen. No indoor plumbing, a pot belly stove in the living room, a Monarch wood
cooking stove, and the john ten miles away!(it seemed at times)More like 100 feet.In each bed
room was two large iron beds, we slept three and four to a bed depending on our size. All except
Daddy. Daddy had his own little cot, just inside the east bedroom curtain (no doors). That was so
he could listen for the clock and stoke the stoves, without having to crawl over legs!
We didn't get electricity for near on five years. Everything was done by oil lamp. I do remember
our very first light. They put it in the kitchen for mom, and we got one plug in. That was because
mom's gas engine Maytag gave out and she got an electric wringer. We had better not let daddy
or mama catch us plugging anything else in there either. The old ice box was wearing out too,
so daddy did some work for somebody who paid him with an electric fridge. That got the other
plug spot. Once in a while, before dad got home we would plug in bro's transister radio and listen
to WSM out of Nashville. We would hurry up and hide it and replug in the wash machine.
After a little while we got lights in all the rooms and a few more plug ins.Like man, we saw
the light!
I thought by changing this page, it might help me climb out of the hole I'm in. The house still
stands although every carpenter I know says that there's is no earthly reason it should be. I
didn't tell them that faith holds this home together. On the wall by the west door, or main dooor
is a picture of Jesus, done by my sister.It has hung there now about 59 years. Not one storm
has shaken it.
Well I guess that's my roots, to the bottom of my boots, and sadness has set in.
Mama, daddy, sis Jean, sis Jan, Bro Bud, bro Laurel, and now bro Tom have accepted a seat
at heavens supper table, and the clock stopped ticking. The fires are out. No smoke from
the chimney leading us home. No porch light. Visit my writing if you wish, you all are so good.
Someday we'll sit at the family table, just keep adding the potatoes mom! Dear Poet friend, almost a year
had passed since brother Tom's death. A memorial get together had been planned. One week before it was
to be, I went to visit brother Den. He's my bro who taught me about football, street smarts, etc. As I held
him up by his chair so he would not fall into his tv, his spirit passed from him. His wife and I did
all we knew how to revive him. It was not to be. Now four of my eight bro's and friends are at the table
of the Lord. I sure do miss them. Please go to youtube and look for uncletimus1 that is one brothers site he
put videos of the family and the new family band. The girl is my daughter (Honey & Rust band). Our
one bright star in still a family so huge. thank you all.

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