The first house Russ and I ever owned was located on a five-acre wooded lot.  It had four rooms and a bath.   It was not a lock and key job.  We built as we had the funds available.  It was a pay as you go project. 

Daddy and Russ built it from the ground up.  It was a long-term project to say the least.  When we moved in, it was far from completed but it was home.

Out back of the house we had a “barn”.  It was actually a 12 by 14-foot pole shed but it served as a barn for us.  It had a tin roof and no walls. 

A favorite pastime of Russ’s was working on various projects at the barn. One time in particular he had spent a good part of the day working out at the barn. Around lunch time I went out to see what he was doing. 

“Just look what I’ve done!” he proudly announced.  He had taken a piece of plywood and a couple of hinges and made a door for the barn.

Almost hysterical with laughter I said, “That’s great! We have a door now but still no walls.”  I guess the door was to let us know where to enter and exit the barn.

“Oh, but that is not the good part!” he responded.  “Go open it.”

I walked over to the door and pushed it open.  It opened about a foot and then, striking something, would open no farther.  I peeked around the door to see what was causing the obstruction.  A stump measuring about 10 inches in diameter stood directly in front of the door.

Not only did we have a barn with a door and no walls, but we also had a door that would not open.  How were we going to go in and out of the barn?  After carefully considering our dilemma, we decided we could cut a place out in the bottom of the door for the stump to pass through when the door was opened.  At that stage in our life, we had become great at problem solving.

One day we were working at the barn.  I don’t remember what project we were working on but I’m sure it was after we had resolved the door issue.   Our two boys, 4 and 6 years old, had been playing nearby.  Suddenly, I realized that they were not there anymore.  I called out to them but there was no response.  They were nowhere to be found.

I left Russ at the barn and hurried to find them.  They must have gone back to the house, I thought.  So, I started down the trail from the barn back to the house.

We had built a deck on the little house that went from the front door around the side of the house to the Kitchen door.  As I neared the deck, I heard Sid call my name.   Looking around I didn’t see him anywhere. I finally discovered his voice was coming from underneath the deck.

I leaned down and looked at him.  He was seated all the way up under the deck with his back against the foundation of the house.  “Sid, what are you doing?” I asked.

In reply he pleaded, “Mommy, don’t go in the house.”  That was a bad sign…….Despite his warning, I rushed up the steps and through the kitchen door.

My kitchen table was one Mama had given me.  It had chrome legs with a chrome rim around a white Formica like top.  The chairs were chrome with upholstery that matched the tabletop.  It was not a new table but it was very nice.

Several days earlier Russ had bought some purple medicine for our cows (that’s another story).  Sid and Brad had found it.  Somehow, they had gotten it open and had spilled it on the kitchen table. Making circular motions with their bare hands they had tried to clean it up. They had smeared it all over the white tabletop.

After the failed cleanup attempt, Sid had panicked and rushed to find a safe place to hide.  Brad had disappeared altogether.

When I saw the mess, I screamed to the top of my voice.  Russ, thinking something dreadful had happened to the boys, rushed from the barn to see what the matter was.  He was relieved to find that no one was bleeding out or dead.  His relief was short lived however, as he realized the dreadful thing that was about to happen to his little boys when this raving maniac found them.

We found Brad in the bathroom trying to wash the permanent purple off his hands.  The floor was purple, the sink was purple, and several towels were purple.  There were two little purple handprints on the door where he had gone into the bathroom and closed it behind him. 

From that day until it was finally retired, the kitchen table wore a tablecloth to cover its disgrace.  The bathroom had to be repainted, and repainted, and repainted several times because the purple handprints kept bleeding through the paint.

And two little boys had purple hands until the cow medication wore off.  You should have seen the strange looks we received at the grocery store.