Mule Plowing 101 (bet you never took this class)

Have you ever seen someone use a mule to plow a field?  I grew up watching it.

My maternal grandparents never owned or drove a car. Neither ever had a drivers license.  Papa used a mule to plow his fields and garden.  And this was not some tiny patch of garden; he had acres of corn fields.  And they always had a big garden spot in the ‘holler’ (which is a small valley) between their house and ours.

I awoke many spring and summer mornings to Papa’s deep voice hollering “gee” or “haw”.  These are the verbal signals to instruct a Mule in which way to move – to the left or the right.  Of course there was the usual “giddyup” and “woeeee”.

The mule was attached to a plow with handles which Papa balanced in the soil as the mule pulled it along.  Long leather reins reached from the bridle along the back of the mule and Papa usually had the ends thrown across the plow or his thin shoulder.

{Photo not of my grandfather but copied for illustrative purpose only}

It was an ‘art’ to see and I wish I could see it again today.  As an adult I promise you I would absorb the finesse and strength it took to maneuver that animal.

Also, I would like to point out THIS is how I learned to ride a horse (mule).  As a tiny child Papa would throw me onto the sweaty back of the mule named “Shorty”.  I would ride to the barn and back and sometimes would beg to just sit on Shorty while he rested in the shade for lunch.

As I grew older, I was allowed to take the reins and ride him alone.  I learned to groom this mule, wiping the sweat off him, brushing him down and even braided his long mane.  Now I wish I had a PHOTO of that – Shorty the mule with a braided mane.  The basics I know about riding a horse I learned on the ‘plowing mule’.

Shorty was sold when Papa got sick in my 6th grade year of school.  I cried like a baby, and chose not to go to the barn and see him taken away.  I still remember it vividly.

But these are good memories of a time long ago !!