the little girl up the road

My Mama came from a salt of the earth farm family. There were seven of the Dunaway children, 4 boys and 3 girls. They grew up on a modest farm of probably 100 or so acres, but every inch of the land was used to provide food and fun for the family. My mom called her dad Pap and he was a part-time rural mail carrier but most of all a farmer. They were a community minded family, social with their neighbors and church was their life. The kids went to play parties and there were always tons of cousins around. They might have been thought poor by some standards. Their lunch buckets where filled with leftover biscuit and tenderloin sandwiches while their more uppity school mates came to school with the high priced store bought bologna. Today one would think my mama's brothers and sisters had the more gourmet school lunches. Of the seven only one of the children became a farmer, a dairy farmer but he,also, was a county magistrate which is pretty close to digging in the dirt. I did have one uncle that lived in the big city of Louisville. He was kind of a farmer, he grew beautiful roses. About every 6 months my Mom, aunt and I would go visit because it was permanent time and Aunt Sally was the best permanent rod twirler around. I didn't like the stinky smell so I would wander outside. I was always fascinated by the over turned quart jars that my Uncle Rogers had placed to protect the tender rose cuttings. I never in a million years understood how those little twigs became rose bushes. But they did . That little girl up the road didn't know her destiny and that young man in the bib overalls didn't know his.

Tis in the Blood or is it?

Farming. The love of farming is in your blood well... I'm not so sure. My Daddy's contribution to my D.N.A., the Addingtons were from Boonville, Indianna. During the Great Depression they lost land and business and headed to Kentucky settling in Hardin County on several hundred acres. There where 9 children, 6 girls and 3 boys. Of the girls only one married a farmer that tilled the dirt. Of the boys 2 were farmers. My Dad was not of those 2. The story is told one day that he was out plowing the field with mule and plow, heard a sound looked up and saw a plane fly over and said "that's the life for me" and never looked back. I'm not to sure about the never looking back because that conjures up a picture of him dropping the reins leaving the mule in the pasture and running as fast as he could to the nearest recruting station. I really doubt that because my Dad was very responsible and would have taken care of the animal first. Besides my Daddy was tall and very skinny and probably had on bib overalls that were very baggy and if he ran he would surely have slipped out of them. I just can't see that as ever happenning and if it had my Daddy would have died from embarassment.

Digging In

For ages and ages I have wanted to start blogging. Like other things that happen in my life it finally falls in place and I just do it. I start digging in to this new venture and don't know really how deep it will take me. One of my great loves is gardening so I realized I might have some thoughts, ideas and a place for others to share their ideas , too. I know there are probably tons of blogs about gardening, but they are not mine and definately not from the Fancy Farmerete. Hope you will enjoy digging with me.