Summer Nostalgia

Well summer is upon us and with it brings nostalgia. I feel it keenly certain times of year, this is one of them.
My mind is filled with memories of the little white house in the country. Of fresh fruit and vegetables that we picked, plucked or dug ourselves.
My favorite was the green tomato, I LOVE fried green tomatoes, cliche for a southern girl I know but there you have it.
I would go down to the garden as soon as the tomatoes were big enough to fry, pluck one off of the tomato plant and take it to my mom. I would say look what I found and she would fry it for me. Until this became a habit, one day she said if you pick anymore tomatoes before their time I am going to tan your hide. Totally hollow threat coming from my mom, however I knew if she got my dad involved that would change the situation. So I said what if one falls off and I find it on the ground, she said in that case of course we can fry it up. You see we didn’t waste anything God gave us. A week later I walked into the house, green tomato in hand and said look what I found on the ground. Mom stare in full force, “and just how hard did you have to shake that tomato plant for it to fall on the ground?” Blink, blink, swallow, swallow. “Well you worked hard for this one, it’d be a shame to waste it.”
One week later my mom came whistling through the house, hand stretched out, green tomato in it. “Look what I found on the ground.” From that time forward that was our joke. Whenever we had fried green tomatoes it must have fallen on the ground.
There is something so basic, so primal about working the land. Growing food and animals to feed ones family and in hard times your neighbors.
There are times I miss it, digging in the dirt, the feel of it, the aroma, the life sustaining nutrients it gives us via fruits and vegetables.
My parents had a gift, farming is a gift, not everyone can do it. My grandpa and my dad had two gifts, farming and mechanics.
I am sometimes amazed at how all three of my children exhibit abilities that my grandfathers side if the family has.
My sons with their mechanical abilities and love of cars, which comes from both sides of their lineage. My dad said my ex-husband was the best mechanic he had ever met. That was high praise coming from my dad. Jeffrey and Alex have inherited a double dose of car knowledge. Their grandpa and great grandpa would beam with pride if they could see them now.
Elizabeth Anne has the touch when it comes to animals, great and small. They love her and she loves them, once again something she inherited from her grandpa and great grandpa. I know without a doubt my dad would have loved nothing better than to go to her farm and give her advice on her animals. I can see my grandpa there, in his overalls walking the land with her and telling her stories about when he was a boy growing up on the farm.
When I look at my children and their abilities and how they have chosen to channel them I am filled with pride at how they are thriving. Even as the grow into adulthood I still look at them with the eyes of a mother and am amazed at what God gave me in them.

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