Memories of gardening with a little bit of meaning
The start of this year’s vegetable garden. ❤🌶🌶🌶 Has me thinking…
I’m so blessed to have grown up in a family that taught me to grow and preserve my own food.
From the womb I have been in a garden just about every summer of my life… Literally my mother will tell you about sitting in a lawn chair gardening while pregnant with me, haha
The memories I have in the garden are just amazing…
My dad and Grandpa would call up our long time family friend and neighbor Mr. Goss.
He would come over with his tractor and plow. Tilling up the field that sat surrounded by cow pastures.
I would watch him wanting a ride on that tractor so bad. Ever so often my momma would send me or my sister out to give him a glass of water. The sun was hot.
-Momma still wouldn’t allow us in shorts until it was above 75°. She was set on raising us to be ladies, little southern bells, just like all southern momma’s. –
Daddy usually used this opportunity to tell us to get out there and start picking rocks from the tilled garden. There was always rock, a never ending dreadful supply.
After we go out there in, well our sandles looking to get yelled at to put some real shoes on, hoe the rows and drop seeds.
Momma and Daddy would allow for us to pick a couple of flowers we liked to put at the head of the garden, I remember one year I chose sunflowers. I was so proud of those suckers.
My sisters and I would play Pocahontas run through the corn.
One year walking around the garden I had a deer come up behind me, and chased me all over the tarnation. It had everyone coming over to see what I was screaming about.
By the end of the season my mom and great aunt- even my grandmother when we went over Helen mountain to visit, had me and my sisters helping snapping,popping,stringing,and canning to supply the family with a winter supply every summer…
We would sneak a handful of green beans to play tea party with.. and I tell you another favorite. When the corn 🌽 was ready, my parents would allow us to go out and grab an ear off the stock to throw in the microwave to have with dinner, oh it is the best!
These memories are just a handful that make my heart smile and my soul feel at home.
Some have treated me like I’m just a stupid hick others have wondered if I was just a city person putting on, and a handful have asked me to teach them what I was brought up doing.
I know what have is a treasure.
This knowledge I have and the way I live is me carrying on a tradition that has been just a way of life for my beloved family over hundreds of years.
The memories like the ones I spouted off in no particular order are ones I hope to leave my daughter with.
My grandfather, he may be gone, and the garden is just a grass field now. All those memories though, I have of the summers in and by the garden, is the best I’ve got left of him and some of the best days of my life.
That’s something I know my daughter is getting with her grandparents. And I hope the tradition carries on and doesn’t get lost.
Because planting that seed, is just so much more.