Our neighbor unfold straw on his garden, in order that the geese and geese won’t eat his newly sown grass seed. A rain-filled breeze swept my method, and with it got here sweet-scented reminiscences.
The Farm: the place a toddler may very well be a toddler. My grandparents: Mawmaw and Pawpaw, sturdy legs planted on the land, sturdy arms, shielding a toddler from starvation, from hazard reusable silicone straws.
Straw….I bear in mind the entrance porch with rocking chairs creaking and Pawpaw singing.
I bear in mind a cover of stars above, and under, lightening bugs glowing on the hill: iced tea, pie. I lean in opposition to my grandfather’s legs. A calloused finger stretches forth, pointing to the traditional Hopewell Indian earthworks on the hill immediately throughout from ours. “That there’s Serpent Mound,” he says. “You have bought kin buried there.” He lights his pipe.
I crawl into his lap and snuggle. His chest is bony. He works too laborious to placed on fats. He pulls out his harmonica and performs.
Straw…I bear in mind the barn.
Aromatic hay and chubby kittens; comfortable, roly poly balls of purring fur, candy infants. The hayloft: my area, the place Nancy Drew is devoured as hungrily as my grandmother’s biscuits.
Heat teats within the palms of my arms, the metallic sheeeeeesh sheeeeeesh of heat, wealthy milk, because it hits the aspect of the bucket, my cheek in opposition to heat, contented cow. Right here you go! A cat catches a well-aimed stream and appears glad.
Bucket fed calves, their noses knocking in opposition to the steel pail, comfortable noses, nuzzling for extra, their sandpaper tongues looking for each drop. Squawking chickens gently lifted from straw-filled nests; eggs are gathered for breakfast.
Straw…I bear in mind Mawmaw’s kitchen.
Right here is meals: yeast rolls and fried hen, gravy, mashed potatoes, peas, summer time salad, corn on the cob, noodles and recent inexperienced beans. Right here is safety and love.
Straw…I bear in mind operating wild – eventually I generally is a baby – operating via pastures and woods.
There are grapevines to swing on and hills to climb. I stroll with the cows. I carry a stick. It is useful to scratch a bovine’s hard-to-reach itch.