We were driving to church for my cousin’s wedding when Daddy pulled off the highway and stopped the truck. “What are you doing?” Momma asked, even though she knew the answer. Riding anywhere with a farmer meant factoring in lots of extra time. Daddy drove slow enough to watch cotton bolls open from the highway.
“We’re gonna be late,” I moaned and applied another coat of strawberry lip gloss. I hated to be late for anything, plus I was in charge of the guest book.
Daddy grabbed his hoe from the back of the truck, ambled across the shallow ditch, and waded through rows of knee-high cotton. He wacked down the annoying weed wearing his new sport coat from Westbrook’s.
Momma sighed.
All the Tate girls had been trained to scan the horizon for johnsongrass. Teasing and waving in the breeze, the offensive plants were easy to spot, a different shade of green standing taller than the crop.
Daddy had some of the cleanest fields in Mississippi County. Everyone agreed.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Musical Pairing:
Lord I Hope this Day is Good, Don Williams
I’m laughing a good laugh at this one, about his driving slow. I was sure to get the boys in the car for school before Thomas came by on our country gravel road. Such good memories.
Yes, your dad had the cleanest crops in the area. We saw him many times out chopping. Clyde Barnette would be out in his fields also.
Farming that Gumbo took a good eye for seeing what needed done & your dad had it.
haha that’s funny Angie. Thanks for sharing!
Memories! Your daddy is probably smiling about your recollections.
Slow enough to watch cotton bolls open…what a remark! I sense your sigh, your eyes rolling to the heavens and the application of yet another layer of strawberry lip gloss.
Great way of bringing in the reader.
I’m loving all of these little sneak peaks into your memoir:)
My Mother in Law would appreciate this. She grew up on a cotton farm. The only reason she got out of working the fields is she was the best cook out of her sisters.
Thanks Christopher. I hope you’ll share it with her.
Charming story!
Thank you Jamie!
“Daddy drove slow enough to watch cotton bolls open from the highway.” Boy, you sure can turn a phrase!
Thank you Geezer:)
I really loved this blog. It brought back so many memories of riding the farm with Thomas. He did have the cleanest crops around, not just on the road, but on the back-side of the field. He took great pride in that. I couldn’t get Don Williams to sing today. Thomas really liked him; we saw him “in the valley” one year when we were visiting our “cotton-picking friends”down there. Love your writing, Momma.
Haha… I remember once my gymnastics coach was late to work because the cow’s got out of the field and were in the road and had to be herded back. That’s livin’ in the country.
What Jane and Tom said. That’s a wonderful line.
Talya, I love your memories about growing up in the country. It’s amazing what we forget as we get older! Ha! I also like your choices in music. Don Williams reminded me of his song from Urban Cowboy. It was about the time that movie came out that I converted to country music
Thanks, Ken! Don Williams brings back lots of memories for me.