Water Tank

When I was about fourteen, my family went to stay for two weeks at the "home ranch" in West Texas. The house we stayed in was, er, primitive by modern standards. It had no electricity, running water, or indoor plumbing. That's a picture of the house below. My grandfather was the second man from the right. And that's pretty much what the house looked like when we stayed there.
It's hot in the summer in West Texas. And on the home place, there isn't much shade or anywhere to cool off so my dad took us out to one of the water tanks to "swim".

The tank wasn't much bigger around than that tub the tigers are soaking in. But I think it was about four feet deep. I know it was deep enough that my toes stirred up the dark green stuff growing in the bottom. Being the girly-girl that I was at fourteen, I was a bit squeamish about that green stuff.

Every reservoir and water tank on the place had that yucky stuff because there was so much sun. Next to the water tank, an old windmill pumped enough water to keep it trickling into a water trough for the sheep and cows that meandered on the place.

Looking back I wonder that my brothers and I didn't get raging ear infections from playing in that water tank. But the joy of being a kid is that you don't worry about that kind of stuff--you just enjoy the forbidden pleasures of cool water on hot summer days.

anny