Southern Miscellanea

My paternal grandfather farmed--as did his father, and his father, and his father before him. Until his early retirement, Granddad also worked for Reynold’s Aluminum Factory near Florence, Alabama. I only knew him after his retirement when he kept three gardens: a flower garden and two vegetable gardens.  Living beside my grandparents until I was almost seven years old, I walked along a short dirt path connecting my parent’s property to my grandparent’s, gazing up at the sunflowers towering over seven feet high along the path. “Tommy toe” tomato plants provided a quick snack along the way and there was only a hint of dirt clinging to their skin as I popped them into my mouth, still warm from the sun.   The middle garden hosted peppers, beans, cabbages, watermelon, cantaloupe, and peas. Cool summer mornings called for shelling peas and snapping green beans. When the corn ripened, husking was the order of the day. Armed with a small brush, I felt useful and equal to my g

Looking out my window, I see an overgrown pasture of green that once hosted a herd of Santa Gertrudis cattle...and after that, wooded foothills undulating with the North Alabama landscape. This particular view is new to me. I've only lived here two weeks now. Before this, my view was untidy yards in a 1960's era neighborhood in a nearby city. I grew up in the countryside--with the exception of two awful years of city life--but after living in a small city for twelve years (and four years before that in that same awful city of my childhood), I needed to get back to my roots. Something about city life--even in a small city--withered me, both as child and adult. Too many distractions kept me from being as creative or productive as I felt I could be. Noise on the street outside, dogs barking, and the lack of privacy stifled me. This morning, birds sing on the power line by the roadside. I watch them swoop down to pick off insects from the dewy grass below. Few cars drive b