After I pluck the tomato from its vine, I move the tomato to my nose and breathe in the smell of the freshly broken connection of vine to fruit.
That smell and feel of the vine take me instantly to my mammaw Downs and her garden. A garden I despised as a kid and teen. I so disliked the chore of all the grandkids to help in the garden.
Stooping, bending, and squatting in the hot, oppressive Mississippi sun to pluck Natures bounty. I thought it so unfair at the time.
Yet, now. Now I love this memory and how a smell and touch acts as a time machine that allows me to BE there once again.
I wonder the thoughts that occupied mammaws mind when she stood in that same oppressive heat, years earlier, as a sharecropper at such a young age.
I love you Elnor Downs!
Real food is indeed a treasure … I hardly ever had store bought veggies, pickles, jams, or preserves until I moved from Mississippi in 1989. If you needed those, you just went to her house and went shopping! HA! xoxo
Grew up in the Jackson area. Spent my Jr High Years in Houma, Louisiana and then back to Jackson for high school. Deep roots down south. My great, great, grandfather was a full blooded Chickasaw Indian. Here’s a picture of him and my great, great grandmother (Irish).
Moved from Jackson in 1989 up to Washington state and then in 2006 moved to Reno. My grandmother lived in Germantown, TN for quite some time when I was younger. Spent my summer vacations as a kid at Gulfport, or Biloxi, or Fort Walton Beach. xoxo
My mammaw had blackberries in the backyard too! Nothing like picking them off and popping into the mouth. Yum! She would send us out with a big bowl to pick some for her and it was great eating them as we picked.
My Aunt Mary had plum trees in her backyard and we’d climb those for plums!
I had Thomas and Lillian make a list of what they want to eat for Thanksgiving. Thomas: fried okra …. xoxoxo
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