We sat at a long, unfinished wooden plank table. Dad added leaves as the family grew. Mom and Dad sat enthroned at chairs on both ends. Their offspring sat on long wooden benches on either side. My first memories of the table were after the three oldest were gone from home, and before Bill and Lois were born.
Category: Rachel Jones Martens
Be Sure Your Sins Will Find You Out – by Rachel Jones Martens
Juanita and Madeline got in the habit of hiding dirty dishes in the oven, pretending that they were finished with all the dishes,
The Honest “No” – by Rachel Jones Martens
I was five years old, wearing waist bloomers and tops with square necks–nothing but smart mouth and honest.
Johnnie and Wes – by Rachel Jones Martens
School Days – by Rachel Jones Martens
I started school at age five at the city school in Barnsdall. All but the three little ones went at the same time. Lloyd drove to school in the two-seated buggy.