Wednesday, February 25, 2015

GOING TO THE WELL TOO OFTEN


When I was a child, the drinking water for our home came from a well not far from the house.  The pump was in a hole in the ground maybe eight feet square and eight feet deep.  The roof of the well was level with the ground.  Access to the pump was gained through a wooden door just big enough to allow one person to climb through and down a short ladder.  The only time we needed to go down that ladder was to turn on water for the garden hose. 

Of course when the faucet for that hose had to be turned on, one of us kids was sent down the hole.  Not only was the place dark and dank, but the pump was a noisy machine with a fly wheel.  It turned on automatically when the storage tank reached a low level. 

To add to the terror of the well hole, the place was home to spiders.

Big ones.  Black widows with long legs and ebony colored bodies.

They wove ragged and tangled webs that hung in drapes across the corners and occasionally across the opening to the hole.

My older brother delighted in telling me how poisonous black widows were.

How they could kill a person dead with one bite. 

And, by the way, it was my turn to go down into the hole because Mom wanted her flower garden watered.  Or we needed to fill buckets to water the calves, or we’d been told to hose the mud off the door step.

I climbed down that ladder when I was assigned.  I never peed my panties when the pump came on while I was reaching for the handle of the faucet.  I was always able to avoid getting bitten by the spiders, although I often had nightmares about them.


I blame my brother for my permanently warped mind.  He should pay for my therapy.

12 comments:

jeanie said...

Oh my - eek!!! That is indeed great fodder for brothers to work with...

susan m hinckley said...

You know exactly how I feel about this. Yikes. How did we get the same brother?

Thanks for the pictures though...gulp(!)

Joanne Noragon said...

The closest I cone is to root cellar my dad dug out under the front porch. But I liked the way it smelled, all earthy.

Alica said...

I think it would've served him right if you'd shut the lid on him when it was his turn down there. Teehee!

Buttons Thoughts said...

I had six brothers so this I understand. I am surprised you did not pee your pants or get bit you are amazing:) Hug B

joeh said...

I'll bet you got back at him in your own way.

And since you didn't show any fear,he doesn't know he scared you.

Jenny Woolf said...

Oh, you have brought this to life! great little story. Mind you he would have needed to be a saint not to tease when he had all that material ... cobwebs, spiders, deep well.... eek!

Val said...

YIKES! That's like the outhouse at my Grandpa's river cabin. Except I didn't have to climb down in it, of course.

Geo. said...

Sounds very similar to the well we had when I was little on the river road. Water table was only about 8 feet down. Electric pump, but there was still a tower and cistern from the old windmill. Those were creepy holes indeed.

Carla said...

Yup, they almost always are found in cool, damp places. Thankfully their webs don't look like any other spider's web.
Why must all brothers be so naughty that way. "Scaring little sisters" must be a whole chapter in their How to Be a Brother handbook.

Terry and Linda said...

Ugh! we had those nasty spiders when I was growing up (They are here on the farm also) my mother WAS bitten by one and was very, very sick for 6 months. She said she lost sick months of her life from that one bite. I'm just glad they were able to help her not lose her life.

Linda ♪♫❤
http://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com
https://coloradofarmlife.wordpress.com/sherlock-boomer

Janice Grinyer said...

All Brothers should be forced to pay for their sisters therapy. There should be a mandate for that...*sigh*

You were "made" by those trips to the well house...I bet thats why you are strong and brave today!