Feisty Repartee

Summer time

The girls are in Louisiana this week enjoying a very brief part of the summer with my mother. I have no doubt they are doing some of the things I loved to do when I was a child.

I imagine first thing in the morning, Wee One and my mother will rise and let the dogs out. Sweet One will sleep in, the night owl she is. Before breakfast, they will put shoes on and my mother will hand Wee One a basket. Then they will walk over to the chicken pen, feed the ducks and chickens, and collect what fresh eggs there are.

After breakfast, if my mother has not already purchased crickets, a great hunt will ensue. With little trowels in hand she and Wee One will dig up small parts of the garden looking for worms and grubs. While Wee One loves all manner of things girly, pink, and frilly, she also likes to get her hands in the dirt. She has no problem snagging those wiggly worms and plump little grubs.

Once all the bait has been secured, they will go in and collect Sweet One before heading to the pond, some 200 yards from my mother’s present home.

The acre pond where I spent endless hours fishing for bream, white perch, bass, and an occasional catfish will host the freshman efforts of Wee One and the slightly more sophomoric efforts of Sweet One. They will catch fingerlings, as well as good pan-sized fish, and laugh and scream in delight. My mother will stand at the ready to bait or remove fish, as required, smiling with love and pride at their every action.

Sweet One will be armed with the obligatory pellet rifle propped against a pine tree behind her, ready to fire on a cotton mouth or bait stealing snappin’ turtle. Her Cairn Terrier Riley will be by her side ready to attack anything that dare threaten her as he watches her line for a little “bobber” action.

After their bucket for fish is full, my mother will break out a knife and a spoon and set to cleaning the keeper fish. She will then dispose of the remains right back in the pond. They will collect their rods and fillets and walk back to the house. It should almost be lunchtime.

The girls will be asked to wash up and my mother will put the fish in the refrigerator for a meal later in the day. She will probably serve the girls chicken and dumplings or roast, rice, and gravy for lunch.

During the hottest part of the day, the girls will relax, play on the computer, or watch a little television as my mother busies herself with the duties of a household.

Around four in the afternoon, my mother will ask the girls to help her in the garden. They will do a little weeding, some watering, and a lot of picking of fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and snap beans. If they are lucky, a watermelon will be ripe and ready to harvest.

She will ask whether the girls would like blueberry or blackberry cobbler for dessert.

Blueberry season is just about over and the girls will probably have had their fill of that for the moment. I anticipate one or both will insist on blackberries. Because of chiggers and the possibility of snakes, my mother will insist the girls change into long pants and boots before they walk back to the woods and briars just past the pond. They will spend an hour or so picking enough blackberries for not one, but two cobblers, one for them and the other for the neighbors because that is what one does.

Upon their return from the berry pickin’ expedition, my mother will insist everyone have a bath. As the sun fades to darkness, she will fry the fish, slice some cucumbers and tomatoes for a creamy cucumber salad, and put the cobbler in the oven to bake as they enjoy their meal.

I hope my girls one day appreciate what wonderful memories they are making with their grandmother.

TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://blog2.mu.nu/cgi/trackback.cgi/105460

Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Summer time: