Today we worked in the garden area .
I have to tell you, this is the best the ground has ever been tilled. Dennis did an amazing job.
I can safely say, the beds are at least a foot deep. Nice soft, loose loam.
We have out potato row ready. That ground is perfect for potato grappling. I Bet you don't know that word.
As we worked with the hoe. I was hoe-ing. (No comment Mike). LOL
I thought of an old song. I started singing it to David. He said, he never heard it.
Of course you know me I had to come in pull up the words and the recitation done by none other than Walter Brennan.
OK who is Walter Brennan. He is an old actor from the early years with a old farmer voice. Kind of crackly with a southern accent.
The recitation is attached.
I can see the same thing happening in my life.
Every year, my Mom would call a colored man she knew. He came to our home with a mule and a plow. He plowed our garden and Mama paid him in cash and he was very happy.
I loved spring planting time. My job in the garden, among others, was planing the onions and radishes and lettuce. I loved that job. The rows were wide and it was a literal salad bed.
I took great pride in setting those onions sets just right
When the lettuce was ready I was out the door ready to make a sandwich with loose leaf lettuce and mayonnaise. I think that is so good. So fresh.
I put a radish on the side and I had a full meal.
I hope you read the lyrics to this song and enjoy the words and picture me out busting up clods with my bare feet. Yes I did that. In fact today, I talked your Dad into pulling his shoes off and enjoying the cool bare earth.
It felt so liberating.
I have to tell you, this is the best the ground has ever been tilled. Dennis did an amazing job.
I can safely say, the beds are at least a foot deep. Nice soft, loose loam.
We have out potato row ready. That ground is perfect for potato grappling. I Bet you don't know that word.
As we worked with the hoe. I was hoe-ing. (No comment Mike). LOL
I thought of an old song. I started singing it to David. He said, he never heard it.
Of course you know me I had to come in pull up the words and the recitation done by none other than Walter Brennan.
OK who is Walter Brennan. He is an old actor from the early years with a old farmer voice. Kind of crackly with a southern accent.
The recitation is attached.
I can see the same thing happening in my life.
Every year, my Mom would call a colored man she knew. He came to our home with a mule and a plow. He plowed our garden and Mama paid him in cash and he was very happy.
I loved spring planting time. My job in the garden, among others, was planing the onions and radishes and lettuce. I loved that job. The rows were wide and it was a literal salad bed.
I took great pride in setting those onions sets just right
When the lettuce was ready I was out the door ready to make a sandwich with loose leaf lettuce and mayonnaise. I think that is so good. So fresh.
I put a radish on the side and I had a full meal.
I hope you read the lyrics to this song and enjoy the words and picture me out busting up clods with my bare feet. Yes I did that. In fact today, I talked your Dad into pulling his shoes off and enjoying the cool bare earth.
It felt so liberating.
Oh Man I miss the simpler times.
Old Rivers
Walter Brennan
HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I FIRST SEEN OLD RIVERS?
WHY, I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN HE WEREN'T AROUND.
WELL, THAT OLD MAN DID A HEAP OF WORK;
SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE WALKING PLOWED GROUND.
HE HAD A ONE-ROOM SHACK NOT FAR FROM US,
AND WE WAS ABOUT AS POOR AS HIM.
HE HAD ONE OLD MULE HE CALLED "MIDNIGHT",
AND I'D TAG ALONG AFTER THEM.
HE'D PLOW THEM ROWS STRAIGHT AND DEEP
AND I'D TAG ALONG BEHIND,
BUSTIN' UP CLODS WITH MY OWN BARE FEET --
OLD RIVERS WAS A FRIEND OF MINE.
THAT SUN WOULD GET HIGH AND THAT MULE WOULD WORK
TILL OLD RIVERS'D SAY, "WHOA!"
THEN HE'D WIPE HIS BROW, LEAN BACK IN THE REINS,
AND TALK ABOUT A PLACE HE WAS GONNA GO.
(CHORUS)
SAY, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN;
WALK UP THERE AMONG THEM CLOUDS,
WHERE THE COTTON'S HIGH AND THE CORN'S A-GROWIN',
AND THERE AIN'T NO FIELDS TO PLOW.
I GOT A LETTER FROM BACK HOME THE OTHER DAY --
THEY'RE ALL FINE, AND THE CROPS IS HIGH --
AND DOWN AT THE END MY MAMA SAID,
"YOU KNOW, OLD RIVERS DIED."
I'M JUST SITTING HERE ON THIS NEW-PLOWED EARTH,
TRYIN' TO FIND ME A LITTLE SHADE.
AND WITH THE SUN BEATING DOWN, 'CROSS THE FIELD I SEE
THAT MULE, OLD RIVERS...AND ME
HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN SINCE I FIRST SEEN OLD RIVERS?
WHY, I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN HE WEREN'T AROUND.
WELL, THAT OLD MAN DID A HEAP OF WORK;
SPENT HIS WHOLE LIFE WALKING PLOWED GROUND.
HE HAD A ONE-ROOM SHACK NOT FAR FROM US,
AND WE WAS ABOUT AS POOR AS HIM.
HE HAD ONE OLD MULE HE CALLED "MIDNIGHT",
AND I'D TAG ALONG AFTER THEM.
HE'D PLOW THEM ROWS STRAIGHT AND DEEP
AND I'D TAG ALONG BEHIND,
BUSTIN' UP CLODS WITH MY OWN BARE FEET --
OLD RIVERS WAS A FRIEND OF MINE.
THAT SUN WOULD GET HIGH AND THAT MULE WOULD WORK
TILL OLD RIVERS'D SAY, "WHOA!"
THEN HE'D WIPE HIS BROW, LEAN BACK IN THE REINS,
AND TALK ABOUT A PLACE HE WAS GONNA GO.
(CHORUS)
SAY, ONE OF THESE DAYS I'M GONNA CLIMB THAT MOUNTAIN;
WALK UP THERE AMONG THEM CLOUDS,
WHERE THE COTTON'S HIGH AND THE CORN'S A-GROWIN',
AND THERE AIN'T NO FIELDS TO PLOW.
I GOT A LETTER FROM BACK HOME THE OTHER DAY --
THEY'RE ALL FINE, AND THE CROPS IS HIGH --
AND DOWN AT THE END MY MAMA SAID,
"YOU KNOW, OLD RIVERS DIED."
I'M JUST SITTING HERE ON THIS NEW-PLOWED EARTH,
TRYIN' TO FIND ME A LITTLE SHADE.
AND WITH THE SUN BEATING DOWN, 'CROSS THE FIELD I SEE
THAT MULE, OLD RIVERS...AND ME
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