Status Updates From Nothing to Tell

In the early years, lots of times we’d come home-you never locked the doors—and find the beds are full. Somebody’d come ridin’ in, fixed themselves somethin’ to eat, and went to bed. I’ve come home and found a whole row of boots sittin’ outside the door. It was nothin’ uncommon to come home and find your house full of somebody.

I was thinkin’ the other day, all these years I’ve never lived in a house where they’ve had a bathroom.

Land was worth, well, you could buy anything around here for twenty-five, fifty cents an acre.

We moved into a little place of our own, built out of doors from railroad cars. You could get these doors at the railroad shops in Brainerd. Other folks was doin’ the same. We lined up these railroad-car doors, got a roof on, and made a house.

A lot of people have preference to the white egg. And then we have the people who want the brown egg. Some figure if it’s a brown egg, it’s no good. Don’t know where they got their theory from.

The cheapest I remember eggs sold for was twenty-five cents a dozen. Just guessing, I s’pose in 1947.