Writing - grace grits and gardening

Riding with a Farmer

June 8, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

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

Thrill Hill in the Delta

May 31, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

As we approached Thrill Hill, we braced our legs against each other and firmly planted our bare feet in the bed of the Chevy. Gripping the side, the truck felt hot against my cramped knuckles.

“Faster, faster!” we giggled.

Although Uncle Woody drove with his windows down, he couldn’t hear through the wind.

There was no reason for such a steep hill to exist in the asphalt. Jutting up in the flat Delta, it was the only hill in a county surrounded by miles of cotton and soybean fields. I was certain it must have been an Indian burial mound. No one ever confirmed my suspicion.

I counted telephone poles stringing along the ditch bank and anticipated the sensation without watching the road ahead.

Uncle Woody’s truck rattled louder the closer we got.

Side by side we perched inside a windstorm of whipping hair and teary eyes.

As the truck soared over the top, we sailed airborne. My stomach flip-flopped with a falling sensation as the truck bounced on the other side.

“Do it again, Uncle Woody!” we begged.

We did it again.

And again.

Grace Grits and Gardening

Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Blueberry Hill – Fats Domino

Goodbye Calendar Girl

May 27, 2014 By Talya Tate Boerner

via MorgueFile

May is almost over. It was an exciting month for me because (in case you somehow missed it) I was “Blogger of the Month” at Arkansas Women Bloggers. As Calendar Girl, I was given free rein and my topics ranged from that 64-pack of crayons we all remember from childhood to the decline of rural America.

Yes, a random peep into how my brain works.

My last feature post as Miss May went live yesterday. I hope you’ll check it out. I’m talking about trending topics like #WhatJayZSaidToSolange. Sort of.

If you missed any of my Miss May posts, I’ve listed each below for easy access.