Day 314
Big Vegetable
Gardens---the “old” house,
in Tennessee
& in New Hanover
When
I was a lad, my old man had four garden plots around our house; he added
another.
He
“enjoyed” playing “farmer”, I reckon; I did not enjoy playing the farmer’s
“son”.
Time
passed and the gardens went away; I swore off gardening. Then, little Rachel
Rebecca came along and asked “Daddy” if we couldn’t have a vegetable garden. I
bought a tiller.
She
sure enough worked her little bones off helping with the chores; we made a good
team.
Our
little town, a mile from our house, held an annual Octoberfest. Little Becky
rented a “booth”-spot from the people in charge and sold pumpkins and luffa at
the event. Made some handsome Christmas money and spent it all on gifts for the
family.
Back
yonder in my childhood, Dad once had 300 tomato plants on a plot at my
grandparent’s farm. One hot summer day he dropped me off with Poppy and Grandma
to “hoe” the plants! Wow! Another time, he had 3 ½ acres of sweet corn; yeah, I
got to help plant that, too.
We
sold some of his “prized” vegetables pulling them around our little town in our
Radio-Flyer red wagon getting 10¢/lb.
for tomatoes, 25¢ each for a watermelon or cantaloupe and an outrageous price
of a dime for 3-ears of sweet corn. The patrons might not have complained so
vociferously if they had slaved and sweated growing the delectable morsels.
Hmm!
The
lessons were good training for a Rebel!
Rascal! Rogue! Recalcitrant-scoundrel!---(me).
Maybe
if he had caught me more often and loosed the bite of his leather belt?---Well!
Hmm!
Hopefully,
after 7-decades, maybe I still have a slim-chance
to amount to something. Hmm!?
I
sure enough reckon that I do believe in: Miracles!
Lord! Just one more chance? Please!
Ah! Cookie Jar sweet “Eat your vegies!”
Memories!
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