Oh What Joy For Every Girl and Boy Knowing They're Happy and They're Safe...
As I've posted before in this journal, my grandfather (Papa - see corresponding tag) was the center of my childhood. I wanted to be exactly like him.
I shaved like him with my toy shaving kit. I would practice spitting like him in his spit-cup & look forward to having one of my own. I followed him everywhere I could. He taught me a lot about farm life and how to do most all of the chores necessary to keep the place running. He even allowed me to go along with the "menfolk" on a hunting trip or two. However, my favorite place to be with him was working in the garden.
I loved the garden. It was beautiful and I loved helping him in all of the tasks involved. I wanted to be down there with him so much that I regularly crawled/dug under the gate in order to be with him. The gate still has two boards nailed to the bottom of it from the numerous attempts to deter me from using it.
Once at my grandparents house, I saw a photo of myself and Papa planting in the garden. I honestly wish that I had that picture but it, as all of the photos of my past, is gone. I don't know exactly when the picture was taken but I have many memories of the subject matter.
Papa would give me some pink beans and he had what he told me was fertilizer but upon reflection I don't know if that was true. He would walk backwards in front of me and drop one of his things and then I was to drop my bean as close to his as I could. I cannot explain to you how much fun this was. I felt so important and could not wait to eat the beans that I had helped to plant.
I also was involved with planting of the other crops (corn, onions, okra, peas, squash, etc.) but it was this cooperative effort that brought me the most joy. Not only was I copying my beloved role model, I was also a necessary part of what he did. Since there were two items that had to be planted together, I knew that we couldn't grow these plants without me to help plant them. I never considered that he could have gone down the row twice or dropped one of them out of each hand. I knew I was absolutely positive that without me, these plants could not exist.
Of course I ate them and the other veggies with great relish. The only thing I wouldn't eat that grew out of the garden were the strawberries. Our soil caused them to be too sharp & bitter for me and I was much too enamored of the wild blackberries that grew all over the pasture to care about missing out on them Plus, most of them were grow for sale to others rather than our consumption.
I really hope that someday I will be able to live in a house with a small garden so that I can once again grow my own veggies and in doing so, relive my happiest memory of my childhood. It would make it even sweeter if I could give the same memory to some of beldar's nieces & nephews before they get too old to enjoy it.
But for now, I will just spend the next few months partaking of the ample harvest of veggies available and embracing the small connection I have with the past in their consumption and the fine crop of basil I seem to be growing this year (it seems to be the only herb I have the ability to grow).
This trip down memory lane was brought to you by the first week's LAST CHANCE IDOL topic of: In the Garden. I hope you've enjoyed this look into one of the very, very few happy memories of my childhood. Almost all of which revolve around my grandparents farm and my Papa especially.
TTFN!
I shaved like him with my toy shaving kit. I would practice spitting like him in his spit-cup & look forward to having one of my own. I followed him everywhere I could. He taught me a lot about farm life and how to do most all of the chores necessary to keep the place running. He even allowed me to go along with the "menfolk" on a hunting trip or two. However, my favorite place to be with him was working in the garden.
I loved the garden. It was beautiful and I loved helping him in all of the tasks involved. I wanted to be down there with him so much that I regularly crawled/dug under the gate in order to be with him. The gate still has two boards nailed to the bottom of it from the numerous attempts to deter me from using it.
Once at my grandparents house, I saw a photo of myself and Papa planting in the garden. I honestly wish that I had that picture but it, as all of the photos of my past, is gone. I don't know exactly when the picture was taken but I have many memories of the subject matter.
Papa would give me some pink beans and he had what he told me was fertilizer but upon reflection I don't know if that was true. He would walk backwards in front of me and drop one of his things and then I was to drop my bean as close to his as I could. I cannot explain to you how much fun this was. I felt so important and could not wait to eat the beans that I had helped to plant.
I also was involved with planting of the other crops (corn, onions, okra, peas, squash, etc.) but it was this cooperative effort that brought me the most joy. Not only was I copying my beloved role model, I was also a necessary part of what he did. Since there were two items that had to be planted together, I knew that we couldn't grow these plants without me to help plant them. I never considered that he could have gone down the row twice or dropped one of them out of each hand. I knew I was absolutely positive that without me, these plants could not exist.
Of course I ate them and the other veggies with great relish. The only thing I wouldn't eat that grew out of the garden were the strawberries. Our soil caused them to be too sharp & bitter for me and I was much too enamored of the wild blackberries that grew all over the pasture to care about missing out on them Plus, most of them were grow for sale to others rather than our consumption.
I really hope that someday I will be able to live in a house with a small garden so that I can once again grow my own veggies and in doing so, relive my happiest memory of my childhood. It would make it even sweeter if I could give the same memory to some of beldar's nieces & nephews before they get too old to enjoy it.
But for now, I will just spend the next few months partaking of the ample harvest of veggies available and embracing the small connection I have with the past in their consumption and the fine crop of basil I seem to be growing this year (it seems to be the only herb I have the ability to grow).
This trip down memory lane was brought to you by the first week's LAST CHANCE IDOL topic of: In the Garden. I hope you've enjoyed this look into one of the very, very few happy memories of my childhood. Almost all of which revolve around my grandparents farm and my Papa especially.
TTFN!