• Pat Flood (@rebarcock) passed away 9/21/25. Pat played a huge role in encouraging the devolopmemt of this site and donated the very first dollar to get it started. Check the thread at the top of the board for the obituary and please feel free to pay your respects there. I am going to get all the content from that thread over to his family so they can see how many people really cared for Pat outside of what they ever knew. Pat loved to tell stories and always wanted everyone else to tell stories. I think a great way we can honor Pat is to tell a story in his thread (also pinned at the top of the board).

Master Thread Dance Your Cares Away/Fraggle/Law Abiding Citizens

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My younger brother and I did this every summer for years. There was not one pinch of fat anywhere on our bodies. We would be raw down the front of our thighs to the knees and from the elbow to the wrist. The bales weighed almost as much as we did, thousands of bales each summer. It was unpaid slave labor ha ha ha.
The wagon was hitched behind the baler and you had to keep it cleared and stacked or you got buried. You picked up the work ethic early in our family.
We acquired a taste for skunky piss warm beer. Beer that had been left in the sun in the back of the farm truck by the older brother.
Our entertainment was shooting gophers, with handguns and .22's and drinking piss warm beer.
Our balls hadn't dropped yet so we were not stealing farm trucks to get to town chasing girls. That came later.
View attachment 127689

I do not miss those days
 
2-3 inches is a lot of water. A blessing.
The ground was so dry there was little run off. Normally with that amount my flower beds would be lakes. I did have to pick up limbs which had fallen. One fell and broke a homemade sprinkler I had for flower beds.

Edit - We have something we haven't had in months---high humidity!
 
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Yep - when in Boy Scouts did a 75 Mile Pack and Paddle - 10 miles pack in and out & 50+ miles canoeing on Canyon Lake.

One of the other troops were a bunch of Farm Boys from around El Campo, Texas.

Son of a bitches were strong as an ox and crushed everyone on the hike and the lake.

Farm Strong is a real thing.
That was also when HS kids played on both sides of the ball throughout the game and didn't do weight training. They were strong as Oxes.

Now these kids get winded after 6 plays and have to take a blow, get a blow or give a blow depending on their preference.
 
My younger brother and I did this every summer for years. There was not one pinch of fat anywhere on our bodies. We would be raw down the front of our thighs to the knees and from the elbow to the wrist. The bales weighed almost as much as we did, thousands of bales each summer. It was unpaid slave labor ha ha ha.
The wagon was hitched behind the baler and you had to keep it cleared and stacked or you got buried. You picked up the work ethic early in our family.
We acquired a taste for skunky piss warm beer. Beer that had been left in the sun in the back of the farm truck by the older brother.
Our entertainment was shooting gophers, with handguns and .22's and drinking piss warm beer.
Our balls hadn't dropped yet so we were not stealing farm trucks to get to town chasing girls. That came later.
View attachment 127689
I grew up on a farm in rural West Virginia. Everything you said was the same...substitute groundhogs for gophers and the beer...we didn’t get beer. The Baptist’s said that stuff would send you to hell. 😂 It came later in the farm truck chasing girls...😉
 
That was also when HS kids played on both sides of the ball throughout the game and didn't do weight training. They were strong as Oxes.

Now these kids get winded after 6 plays and have to take a blow, get a blow or give a blow depending on their preference.
Always played both sides of the ball. If you were good, you never came out unless there was open wound gushing blood, major bones broken, or you were knocked out....
 
My younger brother and I did this every summer for years. There was not one pinch of fat anywhere on our bodies. We would be raw down the front of our thighs to the knees and from the elbow to the wrist. The bales weighed almost as much as we did, thousands of bales each summer. It was unpaid slave labor ha ha ha.
The wagon was hitched behind the baler and you had to keep it cleared and stacked or you got buried. You picked up the work ethic early in our family.
We acquired a taste for skunky piss warm beer. Beer that had been left in the sun in the back of the farm truck by the older brother.
Our entertainment was shooting gophers, with handguns and .22's and drinking piss warm beer.
Our balls hadn't dropped yet so we were not stealing farm trucks to get to town chasing girls. That came later.
View attachment 127689

That's what we did. We didn't get a round baler til I was out of the house and off the farm.

My dad worked for the railroad, and would get called out all times of the day, many times I was in the hayfield by myself. That's no fun.
 
The ground was so dry there was little run off. Normally with that amount my flower beds would be lakes. I did have to pick up limbs which had fallen. One fell and broke a homemade sprinkler I had for flower beds.

Edit - We have something we haven't had in months---high humidity!
Hopefully that causes more showers. A all day steady rain does a lot of good.
 

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