I recently saw a post on Facebook that said: “The problem with the world today is that no one snaps green beans with grandma anymore.”
Maybe that’s true. I remember spending many hours each summer snapping beans, and shucking corn.
Both sets of grandparents had large gardens. Many weekends were spent helping them pick vegetables. As payment for the help, our family got a portion of the food. My mom and her mom would spend hot summer days canning every conceivable vegetable that would last our family through the winter months.
The garden memory that brings a smile to my face was picking ears of corn with my grandpa. As we sat in the backyard shucking the corn Nanny would be in the kitchen boiling the water for the corn and preparing the rest of dinner. I’m not sure I’ve tasted a fresher ear of corn.
As a child, I never enjoyed the work. But as an adult I certainly enjoy the memories. There are times when I can feel the clumps of dirt breaking between my fingers. I learned many lessons about family, hard work and the pride a family can experience when they provide for themselves from the soil of their own land.
Written in response to The Daily Post prompt: Soil
You know those memories Facebook puts on our pages? I woke up this morning to a picture of my Pomeranian Chelsea. I had to help her cross the rainbow bridge 2 years ago. A few months before she died I took her to get her annual bluebonnet picture….this is the memory Facebook shared.
Throughout today I thought of Chelsea and the joy she brought to so many people. She went to work with me regularly. She sat through meetings, she comforted clients and melted the hardest of hearts. She lived to be 18 years old. I was fortunate enough to spend the last 10 years of her life being her person.
I love dogs and believe they are one of the finest creatures to walk this earth. Each dog I’ve had the pleasure of sharing my home with displayed their own uniqueness….their own personality.
But there was something about Chelsea that went above and beyond being a “good dog.” She appeared to anticipate my every move and mood. She was a camera hog that usually knew someone turned on their camera before the humans in the room had any idea. She also had a sixth sense when it came to people with disabilities and made sure they got her undivided attention.
I will continue to have dogs, I will continue to stop and pet any dog within reach and I will continue to wish I could save every stray I hear about. But no matter what, I will never forget Chelsea, and I will always be grateful that I got to be her person.
And no matter how difficult it was, I am grateful I was there to hold her when she crossed the rainbow bridge.