I was born in 1941 and raised along with four sisters on a small isolated farm in the mountains of South Central Virginia. Our parents were of strict Baptist creed and had no tolerance for mendacity of any sort which we siblings were often reminded. We lived almost entirely off the land and the year may as well have been 1841 since the only reminder of modern times was an occasional squadron of airplanes flying over on their way to the war or a trip somewhere in granddads Model A, which was almost never. We had two types of power, “will power,” and “horse power,” but the horsepower came with four legs attached and we had to feed him. This collection of short stories is narrated as seen through the eyes of my innocent youth. It represents only a few of the trials and tribulations that we experienced while living almost totally off the land in the aftermath of the great depression which was by no means over during my earlier years. We soon came to the conclusion that mules were dumb as a post, groundhogs were bullet proof and that weeds could grow fast enough to almost overtake a slow grazing milk cow. Also in the summer heat the horseflies would be so plentiful, I would sometimes question whether it was safe for dad to leave the horse standing alone in the corn field, while he went to the spring for a drink of water, for fear that upon his return the flies would have “eaten the horse” and be “pitching horseshoes” to decide which of them would eat the harness. OK, maybe I exaggerated a little on the harness, but seriously, living off the land was a very hard life. While mom never complained, she probably summed it up best when she said that that it was amazing how quick, “I Do,” became “Make do” for them.