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I was born on 11-25-44 in Ft. Polk, Louisiana, and lived in DeRidder, LA until my mother married my stepfather (who I considered my daddy) when I was 4 years old. At that point, we moved to a farming community outside of DeRidder, called Knight, LA. It was named after my daddy's mother's people.

Daddy had a large herd of commercial cattle and raised fields of corn to feed them. He also raised fields of cotton, and ran a dairy, to supplement his income. Mother worked in DeRidder during the day while we stayed home with my daddy.

I had a brother, Frankie, who was a year older than me, and a sister, Georgia, who was 10 years older than me. My older sister was gone all day to school. My brother and I stayed home with daddy and worked in the fields, chopping cotton, picking cotton, cutting corn tops to grind for fodder in the Hammermill, pulling the ears of corn to store in the corn crib for feed. We would help feed the cows at the barn as well as the pigs, chickens, horses and plow mules daddy also had. We thought we had to work so hard! As an adult, I think back, how hard could a 4 year old and a 5 year old really work?!

When I turned 5 years old, my legs were finally long enough to reach the pedals on the shiny, new Ford 9N tractor daddy bought, and since we were too small to be much help in the fields, daddy taught us to drive the tractor. That would free up one of the men to work in the field. As it turned out, my brother, being a devil-may-care personality even then, nearly tore down every fence he came near when he was on the tractor. That was it! Daddy put him back to working the fields with the men and I got to drive the tractor from then on. Not being stupid, I knew when I had it good and I handled that tractor like it was a God! I didn't want to work back in the fields!

Of course, the cotton couldn't be chopped or picked on the tractor, nor could the dairy be operated with a tractor, so I still had that work to do. As for the corn and corn tops, they required a trailer to be pulled along for the workers to throw them into and then to haul them to the barn so I was able to take it easy with the corn work.

After a few years, when I was 10 years old, mama got mad because daddy wasn't making enough money on the farm. We moved to town and daddy got a job driving a big truck. We went to school in DeRidder and every once in a while, mama would let us go with daddy on his 'run,' which only lasted 2 days at most, and we loved it. She would fix a lunch big enough for an army and daddy was always stopping for coffee (which meant goodies for us!). We would eat our way through these trips. When we would stop at the big grocery stores to deliver our load, the guys who worked in the back of the stores, would always pick at me and say they wanted to marry me. At 10 years of age, I thought I was the 'Queen of Sheba' and I was madly in love with all of them!

When I reached 14, I got married in May, because my mom wanted "one less mouth to feed." In April of the following year, I had a son. Eighteen months later, I gave birth to a daughter and finally, 19 months after that, my baby girl was born. I loved my babies! They were like big dolls that I got to bathe, love, dress and play with. I guess we sort of raised each other. My babies were the best looking, the best behaved, the sweetest.....well, you know.

Over the next few years there were a lot of harsh, painful times. I endured divorces, physical abuse, the senseless murder of my brother, and a super-human struggle to keep my babies and I together and to provide them with as much as I could. I worked hard and together we struggled. There were also a lot of happy times as the kids and I worked and played together to create wonderful memories to build on. I had my dreams, my goals, my faith and my prayers and I kept on.

For a number of years after the kids were grown and had moved away, I raised a small herd of registered Beefmasters (and one Holstein sweetheart!). I loved my cows! They would follow me around, single file, like puppies, while their babies would cavort and snort, playing and romping all around us. Talk about your HUGE HUGS! Holstein hugs are the greatest!

In 1995, the landlord sold my farm out from under me. As a result, it forced me to sell my huge bovine babies (which slowly but surely ripped my heart out!) I wound up living in town again and wondering where my life was headed. Since my children had all moved to North Carolina years before, I decided that I would move here too. After all, I now have 4 grandbabies and if I'm to love, bathe, dress and play with them too, I've got to be here to do it.

Now, here I am, in Charlotte, North Carolina. I'm 800 miles from home and yes, I get terribly homesick at times. However, I've made a LOT of wonderful friends here, and my friends from Louisiana come to see me and I go to see them. In between visits, we email each other. Life is good and I am happy.