I was thinking this blog is not anywhere near "gardening blog" status but you know, that's alright. I'm not worried about that. Gardening is a definite part of me, easily traced back.
I have a growing history from way back in my family. Both sides of my dad's family were large farmers for their times. At a time when 80 acres of crops was considered an average farm in the 20's, Papaw P was farming around 1200 and had 40 pairs of mules for pulling equipment. I can hardly believe it but it's documented. That was the big family of 13 kids -huge strapping boys and apparently huge strapping girls. (This was my recently deceased great uncle's family). The boys would be out in the fields and the girls would be out in the huge garden. The girls under the direction of Memaw would can from the garden in gallon jars the whole summer.
The other set of grandparents, Memaw and Papaw C were better off financially but farmed on a smaller scale. They had a garden as well. Really, in this area during the first half of the 20th century, you didn't eat if you didn't garden.
Alas, both sets went belly up financially and so it goes on with all the rest of the family. You'd think some of us would have learned our lesson about farming with so many examples ahead of us. However the ability, drive and sheer stupidity perseveres in large operations like my bother's.
The C grandparents had three girls, one of which was not quite all there mentally. Aunt Ruth lived with her parents until both died. Then she lived a time by herself before going into the rest home. I just barely remember going over to that house but I do remember there were chickens, a coal pile, an old barn, feather beds, a pot bellied stove, and beautiful shrubs, and flowers. That woman could grow anything from the roses and hollyhocks to the garden she ate from. She was sweet and quiet, gentle in her movement except when she hollered for the chickens. They say my voice sounds a lot like hers when I call my animals- hehe.
When I was very small she kept me sometimes for company and if my mom had somewhere to be. I remember wandering around in the maze of flowers and trees, smelling them and picking them. It was like my own personal play land where my imagination was let loose. I always felt safe and secure in that yard. I remember wanting desperately to feed the chickens so she handed me the bowl of scratch which I dumped right at my feet for the chickens which came scurrying straight up to me, scaring me to death. To this day, I still want chickens though.
My family had large summer gardens while I was growing up. My mom and dad were very pressed to have the food from the time I was born to when I was in high school. We all worked in the garden. I remember planting the pink "treated" corn seed in long rows, the peanuts we grew one year, cantaloupes, cucumbers, green beans in what seemed mile long rows, squash, tomatoes, okra, leaf lettuce, carrots one year, and the year we had potatoes sealed the deal for me. I couldn't believe digging up a plant that had that many vegetables in the ground! I loved it. During my teenage years, I hated working in the garden but that was normal.
Of course my mother canned it all and I mean with a pressure canner. What a job. But we ate so well because of it. They would never have sat back and took hand outs.
Finally, my love of yard gardening comes from my dad's sister. The style with which I plant in my yard is her style. Buy or acquire what I like and stick it here or there. Fill every nook and cranny with stuff. There's a never-ending list of shrubs, trees, and flowers to have so the job/bliss is never going to end.
My aunt and her husband would spend every weekend caring for their yard. You couldn't see their house from the road she had planted so much. Finally, they took some stuff out to cut down on their yard work. I wish to this day, I had acquired some of her oriental poppies- yeah, the opium- producing ones she got from her grandmother. She is also who I learned of growing hops from and using them dried for decoration.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone. Hug your loved ones.
I have a growing history from way back in my family. Both sides of my dad's family were large farmers for their times. At a time when 80 acres of crops was considered an average farm in the 20's, Papaw P was farming around 1200 and had 40 pairs of mules for pulling equipment. I can hardly believe it but it's documented. That was the big family of 13 kids -huge strapping boys and apparently huge strapping girls. (This was my recently deceased great uncle's family). The boys would be out in the fields and the girls would be out in the huge garden. The girls under the direction of Memaw would can from the garden in gallon jars the whole summer.
The other set of grandparents, Memaw and Papaw C were better off financially but farmed on a smaller scale. They had a garden as well. Really, in this area during the first half of the 20th century, you didn't eat if you didn't garden.
Alas, both sets went belly up financially and so it goes on with all the rest of the family. You'd think some of us would have learned our lesson about farming with so many examples ahead of us. However the ability, drive and sheer stupidity perseveres in large operations like my bother's.
The C grandparents had three girls, one of which was not quite all there mentally. Aunt Ruth lived with her parents until both died. Then she lived a time by herself before going into the rest home. I just barely remember going over to that house but I do remember there were chickens, a coal pile, an old barn, feather beds, a pot bellied stove, and beautiful shrubs, and flowers. That woman could grow anything from the roses and hollyhocks to the garden she ate from. She was sweet and quiet, gentle in her movement except when she hollered for the chickens. They say my voice sounds a lot like hers when I call my animals- hehe.
When I was very small she kept me sometimes for company and if my mom had somewhere to be. I remember wandering around in the maze of flowers and trees, smelling them and picking them. It was like my own personal play land where my imagination was let loose. I always felt safe and secure in that yard. I remember wanting desperately to feed the chickens so she handed me the bowl of scratch which I dumped right at my feet for the chickens which came scurrying straight up to me, scaring me to death. To this day, I still want chickens though.
My family had large summer gardens while I was growing up. My mom and dad were very pressed to have the food from the time I was born to when I was in high school. We all worked in the garden. I remember planting the pink "treated" corn seed in long rows, the peanuts we grew one year, cantaloupes, cucumbers, green beans in what seemed mile long rows, squash, tomatoes, okra, leaf lettuce, carrots one year, and the year we had potatoes sealed the deal for me. I couldn't believe digging up a plant that had that many vegetables in the ground! I loved it. During my teenage years, I hated working in the garden but that was normal.
Of course my mother canned it all and I mean with a pressure canner. What a job. But we ate so well because of it. They would never have sat back and took hand outs.
Finally, my love of yard gardening comes from my dad's sister. The style with which I plant in my yard is her style. Buy or acquire what I like and stick it here or there. Fill every nook and cranny with stuff. There's a never-ending list of shrubs, trees, and flowers to have so the job/bliss is never going to end.
My aunt and her husband would spend every weekend caring for their yard. You couldn't see their house from the road she had planted so much. Finally, they took some stuff out to cut down on their yard work. I wish to this day, I had acquired some of her oriental poppies- yeah, the opium- producing ones she got from her grandmother. She is also who I learned of growing hops from and using them dried for decoration.
Enjoy your weekend, everyone. Hug your loved ones.
posted by Unknown at 6:30 AM
2 Comments:
What a wonderful family history. Gardening is definitely in your blood. I have no memories of anyone in my family doing any gardening. We had a gardener who took care of the yard and kept it looking nice, but no vegetable garden. My house was surrounded by a small orange grove, not big enough to make it profitable to have someone pick it. We ate some and gave away some but most of the fruit spoiled on the ground.
I guess it would stand to reason if you grew up where there was something plentiful growing, it would eventually be no big deal to have it. Yum, oranges!
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