During the heatwave of 1977, this skinny, 11-year-old country boy refused to wear shoes, and thank goodness, because otherwise, I’d never have learned all about okra. The big, baking hot vegetable garden on this farm was way away from the house. To get there, you’d leave the house and hear the screen door slam behind you about the time the baking sun changes to sycamore shade. Then pecan trees offer a few minutes of cool, too. Keep on past what was the Barbie townhouse of chicken houses, and finally, there's a gate into the rectangle of rows.
I love this so much! My parents were good friends with yours, Shirley and Ann Huitt. I remember visiting with your family and visiting the farm. I also remember a camping trip where the no see ums were relentless. Please tell your Mama hello from me. My parents have passed and I miss them everyday. My mother was a wonderful gardener and like you, I inherited her love of it. Perhaps one day, I will come to one of your gatherings but until then, please know how very much I love your writing!
Shoes? Psht - who wore shoes, except school and church? Those summertime veggie gardens were hot as can be, be if your parents had one, you worked it! Precious memories now ...
Great morning read. As usual, your stories make me feel as if I were there growing up with you.
A wonderful read. Mommas know their boys. They come from a resilient generation and determined to never give up.
Sweet, so sweet. I love the image of your momma leaning on her hoe for support, out there in her favorite place.
Great stories of southern gardening, spilling over with pathos & humor & love.
Another materpiece! :)
Jenks,
I love this so much! My parents were good friends with yours, Shirley and Ann Huitt. I remember visiting with your family and visiting the farm. I also remember a camping trip where the no see ums were relentless. Please tell your Mama hello from me. My parents have passed and I miss them everyday. My mother was a wonderful gardener and like you, I inherited her love of it. Perhaps one day, I will come to one of your gatherings but until then, please know how very much I love your writing!
Shoes? Psht - who wore shoes, except school and church? Those summertime veggie gardens were hot as can be, be if your parents had one, you worked it! Precious memories now ...