The 4H group has been around the Valley for years . Teaching young people about livestock and food. If you become a member, they give your child a goat, or a pig or rabit to raise. Eventually going to the fair and then the meat is harvested and given to the family to eat. Farming, we are an agricultural area after all. Now this idea really appealed to my Father. He'd been through the depression and knew hunger very well. My mother on the other hand had been raised on a farm and knew all to well about kritters, kids and the eventual out come. She felt it would be to traumatic. They went around it a bit with my Father winning out. And so Dishwater the goat came to live at 1 Blake road. This was about 1952 and I'd not been born yet. My two sisters about 4 and 11 played with Dishwater and dressed him up with little hats. When the time came, only my older sister was privy to his fate. When the meat was delivered, Mother dutifully cooked it, but would not, eat it. She left the table.
My parents never spoke of it again. Later when I came along and some of my young friends received their livestock to raise, my Mother was vigilant. When the 4H'ers came to the door, she rudly sent them away . Now, my Mother was never rude to anyone at that time, so for years this was a mystery to me. Untill, one day about a year ago I heard the story of Dishwater the faited goat. Now finally the story told, I understood my Mothers animosity towards 4H. I'm sure you can find kids in the valley today raising 4H animals. We are after all a farming community . Recently I found an old picture in my Mothers things. Two little girls, a baby and a goat wearing a hat.
