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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 'The Millwheel wouldn't turn until the Spring'. It was a strong wood-frame structure originally designed for a very special purpose. The Gristmill was a mill for grinding grain, and before we ever considered dancing on its floor, we kids spent lots of time jumping and playing in the big bin of corn and working in the mill grinding corn into cornmeal. Many kids knew what it meant and felt like playing in the hay, but we had more fun playing in the corn. I'm not saying it was safe, but safe isn't always on one's mind when you're playing and having fun. Those were the 'Good Old Days' when although we bought some things from the local store, mom and dad raised and grew most of the food we ate, some of which we 'played with and played in' before we ate it. 'Whispers ran through the town from door to door' about kids burying themselves in corn and pretending to be working, but in the case of 'The Gristmill', there was little that we understood as work. I tell you, we had more fun in 'the Gristmill than a kid had any right to. During the summer the weather was mean and dry. When it was dry like that we worked our little buns off in the cotton fields sweating and chopping cotton. Child Labor Laws? Are you kidding me? Back then, we hated work and I think it's true to that too much child labor can take the kid out of the kid. Yes, we knew that we were greatly loved by our parents but it included 'the working variety'. The winters brought rest and ' Ice melts, revealing secrets- wheel creaks'. A bit of a wintery feel, but we've had no rain here for days :) The kids can't wait for The Millwheel of spring. 06272018PoetrySoupContest, 'One, Nine, Sixteen v3.0', Viv Wigley
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