Yard Food

Courtesy of Shutterstock

As a kid, I was fascinated with all the flowers, fruit trees and pretty weeds in our yard. Sometimes I sampled things around the neighborhood, too.

I loved to get a close view of all the innards of a tiger lily, daffodil, iris or a rose. The scents were intoxicating to a little girl, and I loved the variety of colors like my crayons only better. Daddy grew them all mainly in the front yard. His favorite was yellow roses, and he planted a bush by the corner of the house in the backyard.

Squatting down to see what grew naturally under the shrubs across the front of the house, I discovered a tiny green plant with pods. My best friend and I pulled a couple of pods off to smell them. A couple of cat sniffs determined no odor, so we chewed on them. They tasted a little sour, but it became a favorite when we had tea parties in the yard. Mama said it was sourgrass.

Our backyard fence that divided our yard from the neighbor’s had honeysuckle climbing all the way to the trench at the end. When the bees weren’t around, I loved to suck on honeysuckle. I don’t remember who taught me how.

A grumpy old lady on the corner had a crabapple tree. Ours was the first house on the street, so her backyard met the side of our front yard. When we kids got together, crowd mentality was king, and we wanted those crabapples. One of the brave ones would climb her fence and throw a few apples to us hoping she wouldn’t catch us. Well, apparently she was watching from her kitchen window once and came to the porch to scold us. After that day, we realized we had a problem. If someone missed catching the ball, and it went into her yard, she kept it. I guess I never told Mama because I don’t think I ever apologized.

My other best girlfriend, everyone needs two, and I went down to the field of electrical towers at the dead end of her street. She showed me wild blackberries growing, and we filled our pockets with them. Wonder if we even thought to wash them before eating until our tongues were purple?

Miss my childhood some days and being fearless to eat from the yard!

© 2024 All Rights Reserved

1950s Sunday dinner

Istock photo

Saturday evening Mama would cook Sunday dinner.
Her Mama taught her it was a sin to work on Sunday.

I remember my sister ironing all her clothes.
We put everything out Saturday night.

Sunday after church, Mama would reheat everything she cooked.
Beef pot roast with gravy and vegetables, rice for the gravy, fresh green beans seasoned with salt pork, sweet tea with lemon and strawberry shortcake.

Sometimes she’d make cherry or blackberry cobbler.
Memories of Mama cooking still make my mouth water.

© 2021 All Rights Reserved

A loaf of bread and a smile

On the eve of Thanksgiving, my son and I went to the store to pick up a couple of items for our family meal. The two of us celebrate each year on this special holiday. He lives in a small town, and I always look forward to my visits there.

As we turned into the parking lot, I noticed a homeless man at that entrance from the street. He was sitting with his legs crossed holding a sign “Please help”, and his dog and bike were resting beside him. Neither I nor my son mentioned the sight. He parked and said he would only be a few minutes, so I decided to stay in the car.

When he finished shopping, he opened the back door to drop off our bag and said, “I’ll be back in a second.” I watched him walk over to the sidewalk and start talking to the homeless man. My son smiled, handed him a bag and shook hands.

I asked him what transpired, and he remarked that it was unusual to see a homeless person in the area. He told the man, “Here are some things for you and your best friend.” It was luncheon meat, a loaf of bread, and a bag of dog food.

His compassion touched my heart and tears rolled down my cheeks. We have so much to be thankful for, and everybody can do something. Every random act of kindness is appreciated. Make us channels of blessing, God.

©2019 princess2ears

My Freedom

Today I woke up again in a free country
with food, water, clothing, shelter
and feeling protected.

Every Sunday I have the freedom of worshiping
my God at a church of my choice.

Emotion wells up in my heart,
and my eyes overflow with gratitude,
when I pledge allegiance or sing our national anthem.

Just thinking about all my freedoms and benefits
of living in the United States of America.

©️ 2019 princess2ears