Noodle
Bronze Member
Here in my neck of the woods, people lived on their family's lands for generations. A hundred years ago, and farther back yet, to bury a family member on the family land was nothing unusual. Sometimes they had funds for stones, sometimes not. They used items for monuments that we would think of. Bedsteads. Wooden crosses. Rocks laid upon the grave to give it protection from coyotes and panthers a hundred years ago.
My grandfather bought land a mile outside of town in 1915 or so, in conjunction with his brother. Grandpa built a house on it, the chimney of which is still standing. It's an old Indian settlement land. Lots of arrowheads and stones found over the past century.
All that's interesting, but a friend of mine went to his cousin's field, which was activally engaged in a crop. I forgot if he was growing soybeans or corn that year. But this year, there are no doubts as to who has won: farmer or Mother Nature, or Jesus. It is sad.
bg
My grandfather bought land a mile outside of town in 1915 or so, in conjunction with his brother. Grandpa built a house on it, the chimney of which is still standing. It's an old Indian settlement land. Lots of arrowheads and stones found over the past century.
All that's interesting, but a friend of mine went to his cousin's field, which was activally engaged in a crop. I forgot if he was growing soybeans or corn that year. But this year, there are no doubts as to who has won: farmer or Mother Nature, or Jesus. It is sad.
bg