ramblings from an arkansas farm girl
Arkansas…
sister-cousins
Sunrise
over rice fields,
crop dusters soar and dip,
cousins down the road, memories,
sunsets.
Texas…
porch swing days
Porch swing
days, early blooms,
margaritas and Mavs,
cowboys and music, neighbors who
gather.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Musical Pairing:
Back Down South, Kings of Leon
A few weeks ago I posted a photo of clover on my Facebook page. It was a popular picture, bringing lots of comments about playing in clover patches and making clover bracelets and necklaces. But I was surprised to learn there were people who had never heard of this childhood ritual.
Last week at the Hemingway-Pfeiffer writer retreat, our conversation turned to the importance of telling our stories. Stories that will soon be lost if left untold. Things that today’s kids may not know.
Like making homemade ice cream. Pouring ice and salt around the canister. Turning the crank until it wouldn’t churn. Covering the freezer with a thick towel. Waiting and waiting for fresh peach ice cream. The process was one of the best parts of summer.
And making clover necklaces and bracelets? I decided I’d better write about it. It’s worth remembering.
Step One. On a sunny spring day, gather clover.
Step Two. Press a small slit in the stem of the first clover about an inch from the flower. The stems are tender, so this can easily be done with your fingernail. Ideally, clover necklaces are made on the school playground surrounded by best friends, laughter and daydreams. No utensils required…
Step Three. Thread the stem of a second clover through the slit of the first stem. Repeat this process, making your next slit on the second clover. Weave the third clover through the slit on the second clover. Don’t overthink. Remember, this is a fun, easy, imperfect activity.
Step Four. Continue until your clover rope has reached the size you want for a bracelet, necklace or crown. Yes, clover crowns were all the rage on the Keiser Elementary School fourth grade playground…
Step Five. Connect the last clover to the first stem the same way, with a small slit. Now your clover ring is connected. Snip the long pieces of stem if you prefer.
I doubled my clover chain bracelet and proudly wore it to lunch.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
And revery.
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
(Emily Dickinson)
Most of Mammaw Ruby’s customers lived in Victoria and Luxora. She even sold Avon to the gypsies living on the edge of Osceola. On Saturday, I helped her with deliveries. Her car was crammed with white sacks filled with lipsticks and lotions and rose-scented perfume. She said while we were out, we needed to see how high the Mississippi River had risen with all the recent rain, in case Papa Homer needed to build an ark.
morgueFile
Mammaw Ruby wasn’t known for her driving abilities.
Driving to the top of the levee, she hogged the entire road. I held my breath and prayed no one was speeding up the other side.
As her car straddled the levee, the river roiled only inches away lapping against the asphalt.
A tree floated by.
“I’ll swanee! We’re stuck!” Mammaw said in a panic. “I can’t turn around.”
“Let me out. I’ll walk.” There was no way I was going to drown in Mammaw’s car when she plunged over the edge. Even though I was a good swimmer, the current was dangerous. Daddy said if we EVER swam in the Mississippi River, we would surely drown.
Before I could escape, Mammaw reversed the car and backed down the levee the way we had come. The motor moaned. My knuckles cramped and clutched the door handle as I prepared to jump.
Later that night, I relayed the story to Momma at the supper table. Momma promised we would never again ride with Mammaw Ruby. Momma forgot all about that promise the next time she needed a free babysitter.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Musical Pairing:
Johnny Cash – Five Feet High and Rising
