In a message dated 8/9/01 7:52:40 PM Pacific Daylight Time, BoxerB@aol.com writes: > TNSUMNER-L@rootsweb.com > I remember staying at my great-grandmothers in Cleaton Ky. They had running water for a sink I believe but no water heater or indoor bathroom. I'm told one time my mother gave me a bath in a tub that had been heated on the "old stove" and didn't think about how hot the bottom of the tub might be. The water was fine but I got a few red semicircles on my tush. Don't worry, she immediately pulled me out when I hollered. I have no recollection so it must not have been too bad. As I got older I had to use the outhouse which was past the coal bin where a "good snake" lived. I used to hold my natural urges for as long as I could. The worst times were at night. Dad would try to get me to use the slop jar but I just couldn't. I didn't want anyone seeing what I had manufactured overnight. Using the privy was almost as bad. Somehow I had dreamed up the notion that wanted criminals were known to hide under the privy. I just knew when I sat down, someone was going to grab me and pull me in. I don't have to mention the spiders. I think that says it all. My good memories are the food that literally filled up the round table covered in a red-checkered tablecloth. We ate out on the screened in "porch" that doubled as one of my great-aunt's bedroom. After lunch, my brother and I would climb a green apple tree out back, saltshakers in hand and eat away. The only other fun things to do were jump on an old set of bedsprings, play on a flying ginny or walk down to the lake to see if Dad and "Big Dog" (my grandfather) had caught any crappie. The old place is gone now due to strip mining. I remember those times so well, especially when I smell coal burning or see an outhouse or drink out of my own sink now and wish it tasted half as good as my great-grandmother's well water. Carla Marlin