“Jaaaayyyyy?” Grandmamma called out, breaking my wondering thoughts. “It’s time to come and get washed up. I’ve got lunch ready.”
“Ok Jean,” yelled Granddaddy in his excited, but determined ‘I’m going to finish this’ attitude. Before I realized it, Granddaddy and I had a t-shirt full of cucumbers and a few perfectly red tomatoes. I held out my t-shirt as he filled me up with veggies until I couldn’t hold any more. He took out his small Purina pocketknife and cut off the mammoth stalks a few baby okra pods. Anything over about four inches, he threw out over the fence to the cows and they ate them up in a second. We made our way to their home’s glass storm door of the Florida room where Grandmamma knowing we were coming in from the garden met us with a basket to empty our stash.
Granddaddy took one of those perfectly ripe tomatoes and sliced off a big juicy piece in the kitchen and let it fall into his mouth. “Yummm” he said as he cut me one off one to try. I had never had a tomato straight from the garden like that, but Granddaddy and Grandmamma acted like this was just an ordinary day. “It doesn’t get any better than this,” he said. “Living off the land, Matt.” He turned toward the compost bin that seemed to be strategically positioned next to the sink. The round metal mini bucket had a handle and a top with two grocery bags lining it and was overflowing with fresh veggie scraps. “I have found Matt that you just don’t need to spray a bunch of pesticides on the garden if you take care of the soil. That’s why we scrape our plates into the compost bin.”
The bar-b-que was starting to get cold so we all sat down in the Florida room. I cherished the homemade bar-b-que and always asked for it as a blob on my plate. Grandmama had homemade squash cookies and green beans. So delicious.
This Florida room was one of my favorites of their ranch style house. Metal chairs all painted canary yellow with vinyl cushions and indoor plants that were all gifts from friends. It looked out over the entire backyard with hummingbird feeders right off the back door. Bird houses Grandmamma taught me that day were just perfectly placed and active with a flurry of activity from bluebirds going in and out.
Granddaddy was passionate about not feeding the squirrels, but loved to always have birdfeeders strategically placed around the yard in clear view from the table, recliner, and bedroom window. We got a good laugh one day when we saw the TV commercial of a bird feeder with the bottom that would spin when the weight of a squirrel pushed down on the perch.
