grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Archives for 2012

Fall is…

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This post is Day 3 of the BLOGtober Fest challenge with Arkansas Women Bloggers. Theme is Fall Traditions…

Easy peasy…

In our family, we have several fall traditions, but my favorites are …

  • That first eye-rolling-back-in-my-head bite of corn dog from the state fair, hot from the grease and dripping with mustard. A trip to the state fair is always on the agenda. 
  • That first weekend of college football which pairs perfectly with the season’s first bowl of chili. (My husband makes amazing chili…) A house divided, we claim many teams cheering for Arkansas and Arkansas State (always), other SECteams when it benefits Arkansas, and Texas when they play Oklahoma. We almost support LSU when they play Florida. Florida, never. Although it rarely happens since the fall of the Southwest Conference, if Baylor should play Arkansas, I cheer for whichever team has the ball. Yes, I graduated from Baylor and LOVE the Hogs…  Conflicted.
    My handsome Razorback
  • Cotton Harvest! The holiest of times. The fields are transformed into a sea of white, thick enough to walk on. My favorite smell, the smell of cotton. 
can you smell it?

talya
Musical Pairings:

Arkansas Fight Song

It was a dark and stormy night…

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It was a dark and stormy night…

Ok not really. The night was clear and cold, but living on a farm, every night was dark. On Halloween, the glow of an orange harvest moon only added murky shadows to nightfall.
With no neighbors, no sidewalks, no streetlights, treats were few and far between. My sister and I worked extra hard to fill our plastic jack-o-lanterns, making each piece of candy seem a treasure.
One Halloween, Momma drove us from farmhouse to farmhouse down Highway 77 from Smith’s Store almost to Manila. Nana went with us that year which made the outing even more fun. At 55 years old, this was Nana’s first time ever to trick or treat. Excited to play dress-up, her costume was brilliant yet simple as the best often are. An old stocking pulled tightly over her head to below her chin distorted all facial features, smashing her long humped nose and stretching her lips. With a black coat to complete the look, she became the witch from Snow White.

With our pumpkins almost full, we saved the best for last. The Cockram house was my favorite, built of native stone with a long gravel driveway that twisted through the heavily treed front yard.

There was good candy inside that house, you could just tell.
Turning the car lights off, Momma drove slowly up the drive, stopping a few yards away from the house, leaving us to walk to the front door with Nana.
Trick or Treat!
Do you have candy for my starving kids? Nana pleaded in a scary voice, adding an evil cackle and holding out a shaky hand.
Although family friends, it was evident they had no idea who we were. They peeped at our car, but the night was black, and without headlights the color of the car was not obvious. The drapes around the dining room window moved aside as someone inside watched us.
Do we know you?They asked.
No, we are just a family who needs lots of caaaandyyyyy. Nana screeched, nearly scaring me.
Back in our car, we giggled quite proud that we remained nameless. In the back seat, I felt inside my plastic pumpkin trying to determine the latest additions based on the size and shape of each small candy. Unwrapping a Bit o’ Honey, I popped it into my mouth, dropping the wrapper back into the jack-o-lantern. Nana joked about how we got them good!
Momma agreed, laughing as she backed down the drive toward the highway, still without the headlights. We were stealthy, covert, the car remaining invisible. The Cockrams continued to watch from the picture window, completely stumped.
Halloween was so fun!
A loud crack! A jolt that hammered us (seatbelt-less) into the front seat. My pumpkin spewed candy into the floor as I nearly choked on my Bit o’ Honey.
Quite the opposite of sneaky, Momma had rammed the car into a tree, breaking the taillight, splintering the tree trunk and bringing an abrupt end to our spirited shenanigans. The Cockrams spilled out onto the drive, actually excited their tree brought our identities into the light of this Halloween night.
Finally home, we had to explain this little trick to Daddy.
Boo!
My sister and me. I was seriously rocking the eyebrows…
 talya

Musical Pairing:


This post is Day 2 of BLOGtober Fest for Arkansas Women Bloggers. Theme Halloween Memories…


Knock knock…

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Who’s there?
Girl.
Girl who?
Girl Who Drives With Lead FOOT!
I managed to go thirty years without a ticket and now I seem to be supplying all the little speed traps in Oklahoma and Arkansas with donuts and coffee. Much like the popular adopt-a-highway program… Go ahead and put me down to sponsor Atoka and Augusta.

I collect tickets in each state like my mother collects shot glasses. 

I need to stay put.
To avoid the constant highway construction between Memphis and Little Rock, I thought I would be OhSoClever and take Highway 64 from Marion to Bald Knob. As if the names themselves don’t imply this, there’s not much between here and there. Earle, Parkin, Wynne, little towns with one stop light surrounded by cotton fields begging to be picked. Towns with old water towers begging to be climbed. Towns with empty roads begging to be drag-raced.

Towns where they grow giant junior high girl basketball players. We Keiser Yellow Jackets have first hand knowledge.

Towns with bored yet overly zealous cops.
When you take the back roads to avoid interstate construction delays and instead spend an extra thirty minutes on the side of a ditch enjoying a speeding ticket delay, the advantage quickly evaporates.
When you have Texas tags, the cop seems extra snarky. 

Lady, do you have any recent moving violations?
Ummm, maybe…. (probably not the best answer but I was smiling)
WHAT? (not smiling)
Well, I got a ticket last month in Oklahoma, but the officer said it wouldn’t go on my record.

(I was trying my best to show him I was wearing a Razorback t-shirt… IF you know what I mean.) 

Rudely, he never noticed. Too much fire spewing from his evil eyeballs.

Turns out the good sooners in Oklahoma didn’t report my ticket, which is probably why I’m not in the Augusta, Arkansas jailhouse trying to make bail. I quickly did the mental math and realized maybe I should slow down.
Later, on the other side of Texarkana, I came upon a fatal car accident with Care Flight, bodies strewn about the road, and an SUV in a tree. Perhaps my ticket was a good thing.
leadfoot
Musical Pairings:

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!