Think of breaking horses in the old west, and what is the picture that comes to mind?  A tall, strong cowboy is probably the first image that you have.  That image was shattered for me one day as I sat with my grandmother and asked her, "What was your favorite thing to do when you were a young girl?"  I was in for a shock when, after a few minutes, she answered, " I loved to break wild horses."  Suddenly, I realized my entire concept of my grandmother had been wrong.  I had always known her as a sweet little lady who liked to read her bible, teach Sunday school, crochet, cook, and care for her grandchildren.  I had never associated the personality of a tough cowgirl with my grandmother.  Although she stood only four feet, eleven inches tall, everyone called her "Big Mother," and now that name made perfect sense.  I knew that there was another side to my grandmother that I had just discovered, a fiery spirit and "gumption," the word that Texans associate with people who are spirited and brave.

     My next question brought even more surprises.  Having, all my life, listened to stories about the first Thanksgiving, and how the Indians had helped the pilgrims, my distorted view of the relationship between the white people and the Indians was about to be changed forever.  "Did you see any Indians?  Did you like them?" I asked excitedly.  Without a moment's hesitation, my sweet, kind, loving grandmother, said, " I hated the Indians!"  Shocked, I asked her why she felt that way.  " They kidnapped white children and came into our house and took all of our food!"  Big Mother answered with a look of disgust on her face that I had never before seen.  I sat silently, not knowing what to say about the strong emotions my question had caused.  

     Now, these many years later, when, I have come to know how the white man stole the Indians' land, destroyed their food sources, and killed or imprisoned their people, it makes sense that Indians thought they had a right to my grandmother's food because they were probably starving.  Even if I had known this then, I don't think my grandmother would have understood if I tried to tell her.  Her reaction helped me understand how rigid the beliefs of both sides must have been and why there was never a lasting peace or a good outcome of the relationship between Indians and white people in America.

Sitting next to my grandmother, I begged her to tell me one more time about the black panther who came down from the Texas hills and terrorized the young Roberts family.  Big Mother leaned back in her chair, and her eyes stared into the distance as she returned to that night of fear.  Florence Lee Roberts was a young girl, probably about 10 years old, when her father had to leave the family alone while he went away on business.  That night, the panther came down from the mountains in search of food.  Before he reached their house, my great-grandmother, Laura Mullens Roberts, and her four children could hear the animal.  At this point in her story, my grandmother leaned back in her chair, and, as she had done so many times before, screamed a blood chilling scream that amazed and thrilled me every time I heard it.  "That's how it sounded," Big Mother said, "like a woman screaming.  Then, the cat tried to get into our house, and, we all huddled together, so scared, until we didn't hear its scratching and screams anymore."    The year was probably 1900-1904.  My grandmother would have been between 10 and 14 years old.   (Photo source: Wikipedia)

Texas Sod Home:                                                                                                                                   The Texas prairie looked to the family of six like an "ocean of grass."  The first and quickest shelter was a dugout, a small, dark space dug into the side of a hill.  This provided protection from the harsh, constantly changing Texas weather.  The next step was building a home.  Lacking trees or rocks, the Roberts family used sod, a combination of dirt and the roots of grass.  It took about 3,000 sod bricks cut 18 inches wide by 24 inches long to build a home that measured 16 x 20.  Bricks were placed root side up so that the roots grew up into the next brick and strengthened the walls.  As the walls began to rise from the foundation, they were angled slightly inward to prevent collapse when the house settled.  The roof was constructed from cane poles wrapped in brush, mud, grass, and sod.  Inside the home, sheets or tarps were hung from the ceiling to catch falling dirt, insects, and snakes. 

(Source: Smithsonian National Museum of American History) (Photo source: Wikipedia)

Like many early settlers, the Roberts family established Robertsport, Kentucky, in hopes of supporting themselves in a prosperous port town.  On May 15, 1852, my great-grandfather, Edward Stanton Roberts, Big Mother's father, was born  in Robertsport, near Lebanon, Kentucky.  In 1877, at age 25, Edward married Laura Ann Mullens.  The young couple was lured to Texas by the promise of cheap land.  In 1862, Congress passed the Homestead Act which allowed men or women 21 years of age or older to claim 160 acres of land.  The only requirement, after filing a small filing fee, was that they build a house in six months and live there for at least five years.
(Photo Credit: visitlebanonky.com) 

Two chairs and two girls together can create worlds of learning and laughter.  This is where Big Mother, my  four foot eleven grandmother, and I spent many hours and where I learned her life's lessons.  In her gardens, I discovered many secrets that I will share with you here in Grandmother's Gardens.

Please also visit me at my sister site: http://inmygrandmothersgarden.blogspot.com/
You may also like my blog about raising my own granddaughter:  http://grandmothers-garden.blogspot.com/