As the cooler temperatures seemed to have found its way to our state, it reminds me summer is still trying to fight to stay around just a little longer. It has a way of doing this every year. Even though summer has been a little quiet but it has reminded us these past couple of weeks with the heat it’s not fall yet.
Summer has always meant a little more sunlight to play in. Or a little more sunlight to spend in the garden weeding or picking some of the last fruits of all the labor during those hot months. Our summers were spent mostly in my Mamaw and Papaw’s garden or should I say gardens.
Beside their house was their main garden. Here was some of my greatest childhood memories (outside of my tree haven) were made. There is where I found my love of the feel of freshly tilled dirt between my toes as my sisters and I walked up and down the rows planting seeds. Here is where I found my love of gardening even though for years I denied it. Here is where I learned patience while waiting to see if the seeds would grow and for the vegetables to ripen.
In the back of their house down a dirt path surrounded by bushes you had to push past to get to the pea patch. It felt like my secret garden. (I might have always wanted one since I read the book.) There were actually three pea patches: two purple hull peas, and one black eye peas. These patches taught my sisters and me some life lessons, I will never forget. If you want something bad enough then you must be willing to do the manual labor to get it or earn it. The red ants are called fire ants. They earned that name because when they bite you it feels like fire has entered your body. Peas always taste better when you pick, shell and cook them yourself. And no matter what; you will always have a place at your grandmothers.
Everyone learns different things as they grow up but I like to think we all learn the same things in our way and time.