Back when I was a kid, summer vacation did not necessarily mean a trip to visit a theme park.
Initially as soon as school ended at Memorial Day, those next three months of summer were utilized for harvesting crops.Needing as many hands possible, neighbors and their children all combined forces to get the crops harvested quickly.. Oftentimes while the men were in the hay and cotton fields, the women and smaller children were busily preparing vegetables for canning.
Such was frequently the scene at my house on Sundays.
First we attended morning church services,
then Sunday Dinner usually served boarding house style... the kitchen quickly cleared and cleaned..
.and afterwards..out to the back yard..under the pecan trees..
Many a Sunday afternoon was spent beneath the spreading pecan trees in our back yard with a bucket of peas and butter-beans waiting to be shelled.
everyone helped do their part
I loved picking the peas and beans, even if my hands did turn purple!
I can see my Daddy and Mom sitting in their cane bottom chairs..
shelling..
and talking..
and laughing..
sometimes dad would amuse us by yodeling..
or singing old country songs..
and then we'd all sing together..
off key.. just having fun..
At other times, the same scene.. the vegetable was now corn.
Dad would shuck,
Mom would cut it off the cob.
Each of us kids had a role in getting the vegetables ready for canning and freezing.
and we all enjoyed the fruits of our labors!
Summer was a busy time.. Fruits were ripening and weekends were to utilize all available family hands.
It was during these summers that I learned the secrets of my ancestors recipes.. how to make the best pear preserves,
candied Fig preserves..
Dreaming of hot buttered biscuits and preserves
and the perfect pickle and pepper sauce.,,
as well as jams and jellies.
Sweet freestone peaches..
I still use those same recipes and secrets today, only not on as quite a broad scale. Mostly I can for the pleasure of sharing with other friends as gifts and Holiday treats..
Once everything was finished, we knew Daddy would be cutting the watermelon he'd earlier put on ice.
Those times spent as family in the back yard were magical. We'd listen in awe as Daddy spun tales of his exploits as a poor child living in the country on a farm. We heard tales of ancestors and their exploits. My Mom would talk of her fight to attend school. So much family history was learned as we worked together..
played together,
prayed together..
and stayed together.
Again, I do miss th simpler times when families weren't spread to the four corners of the earth.. but rather just down the street or across the field..
On a simple Sunday summer afternoon..
*all photos courtesy of Google*
Please join for
Summer Sundays
Scenic Sunday
l
