I would give my opinion of having a rookie/2nd
year starting quarterback, but alas, none of my friends seem to enjoy football—wait,
I am NOT enjoying Titan football…I am only going to say that GOOD THINGS take
time to ripen…
With that thought, my friend Cheryl, has been patiently, ok,
I am not sure patient is the correct word, but she has, nonetheless, been
waiting for a LONG time for a tomato to ripen that was planted by nature. Today, I scrolled through FB to find it had
FINALLY ripened! LOL YAY, TOMATO!!
Seeing that beauty flooded my mind with memories…OK, you
CANNOT be surprised by that comment.
My Daddy loved tomatoes better than most anything in this world. We would plant about 50 – 100 tomatoes and let
me tell you, planting them was not an easy task.
He would work the garden soil with his little red tractor,
and add the needed fertilizer, and then find the proper place to plant them,
since you had to move the crops around each year in order to get good
growth. For those who don’t know, each
plant TAKES and GIVES something specific to soil, and it must be replenished in
some way, so that is why things were planted at different spots each year.
It became my job to PLANT the tomatoes. I would laugh as I looked behind me to see
Daddy re-doing what I had just finished.
I didn’t say much, but at one point, I did remind him of my success at
raising flowers. He didn’t replant as
many plants. LOL
To plant the tomatoes, we had to put down the black plastic
sheet and then put soil around the edges to ensure it wouldn’t blow away. After that, out came the scissors, or Daddy’s
ever present pocket knife, to cut an X in the plastic and plant the tomato
plant DEEP into the soil. It was watered
with a cup of miracle grow laced water.
The homemade tomato cages were gathered (pulled from the
weeds), a stake was driven beside the freshly planted tomato, cage placed over
the tomato and tied to the stake with ORANGE bailing twine. THEN, bails of
straw were drug to the garden and placed on top of the plastic—WHEW!
The watch for the ripe tomato began instantly, because July
4th was the targeted date.
This meant the possibility of having to cover the crop to prevent them
being killed by frost—oh, the joys of Middle Tennessee fickle weather. BUT the
end result was worth the effort.
After Daddy died, baby pear tomatoes would grow around the
yard from him walking around, tomato in hand and his spitting the seed as he
walked.
Today, I craved those days, but was thankful for the
memories.
Food, as you all know is often the center of most of my
memories, and today was no exception.
I longed for a home grown tomato on a biscuit. That was
Mother’s favorite thing.
I had some grated cheddar cheese on the stove and a small
amount of Bisquick left in the box from making Charcoal sausage balls a few
weeks ago (he reminds me to buy sausage next time, and now Bisquick). I mixed the cheddar cheese, Bisquick and added
canned milk, mixed together and dropped small mounds of dough on the cookie
sheet. Placed them in the 425 oven and cooked
8-10 minutes.
Oh, my goodness. Even
the little store bought Roma tomatoes I had tasted heavenly!
This turned out better than my last food memory.
I saw the can of tamales and remembered what a treat it was
for Daddy to have them in the winter in a bowl of chili. I was “fascinated” as a child by the PAPER
that was wrapped around them.
I didn’t have the chili, but I ate the tamales and laughed
at me. They were ok, but not nearly as
good as the memory!
Sometimes, memories are better than reality.
Time is often a good friend that allows us to forget some of
the frustrating moments and cleans our heart of the bad details and fills the
void of reality with love. I don’t think
that is necessarily a bad thing.
So, I guess today, I choose a rogue TOMATO “grown” by Cheryl
as my Serendipity moment of the day.
Cheryl's prized tomato |
I can’t express my gratitude enough for my parents giving us
such a happy life. They chose US over
material gains. We had everything we
needed, and too much of what we wanted, but again, that reminds me of my mother
saying she had always had everything she wanted—she just knew WHAT to want.
I watch these stupid court shows, and the news and wonder
WHAT we have taught the children about things that matter. Sadness overtakes my heart when I see the
lack of quality to so many lives, and what people expect from life. I read post after post about needing Prayer
back in classrooms and so on, but the real truth is that nothing will get
better UNTIL Prayer and Wholesome values are brought back into the homes, and
Parents start spending time with their children, teaching them by EXAMPLE of
what a Quality Person is. CHOOSE a MATE
with as much thought as you choose where to eat!
It DOES take a village to raise a child, and I think that is
what is missing. Nobody seems to want to
listen to each other. We tend to firmly
plant our feet in the ground and yell, NOT MY CHILD... or DON’T take away my
child’s rights! Oh me...we have a world
BEGGING to be loved and disciplined.
My prayer is that EACH one reading this will do their part
(yes, I speak to ME in these posts more than anyone) in changing their little corner
of the world by changing themselves.
Focus on qualities that matter.
Look at the seed you are planting.
We have GOT to get back on track and start realizing that JUST because “it
feels good” doesn’t mean that it is GOOD.
I pray for you and for the parents who struggle to do what
is right. Evil is at every turn, but so
is Goodness—CHOOSE Goodness, Kindness and LOVE.
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Thanks for stopping by my little corner of the world. In case you haven't been told, you are loved!~~charlotte♡