I Should Explain…

Why do I have cotton on my blog? Long ago and far away my dad was farming. He had some acreage east of Queen Creek. I think they are building a High School on part of it now. When I was about 10 or 12 (maybe, I can't remember how old I was) I got the bright idea that I could work pulling weeds in the cotton fields to earn some of my own money. The term I believe was “chopping cotton”. I'm sure my dad knew this was not going to work out, but happily took me to a field, showed me what to do and left me there. It was August. The sun was hot (hotter than hades) and the rows were long. Really long. I stuck to it for awhile, but figured out that I didn't like this kind of labor. Not only didn't like it, but that I wasn't very good at it. Some of those weeds were strong and stubborn. Much more stubborn than I was. (About weeds anyway). An early foretelling of my lack of green thumb. My dad grew and cared for lots of crops, my mom was really good at growing things, all my moms people were farmers, so what happened to me? I'm sure the burning desire to succeed was just not there for me. In any event, dad showed up after awhile and with a smile on his face paid me dollar and took me back to the shady barn where there was a fan and some cold water. My farming days were over. I do have a deep and abiding appreciation for those who work in the fields of the farmland. They work hard and long. I don't think we appreciate our farming industry nearly enough. I still try and buy the products made from American Cotton Farmers rather than the overseas sources when I can. Just a little thing, but to me it's my way of supporting our farmers here.

August has always felt like my blog art this month. Cotton and other crops getting ready to be harvested, the bright unrelenting sun that just burns the days away. For me as a youth it was the last month of summer as we didn't start school until after Labor Day. I remember riding my bike to my friend Marilyn's house, or running there most of the time in bare feet. I would run along the grass at the edge of the sidewalk for the most part, then through a vacant lot or two. I knew where all the broken glass was, and all the sticker patches. Trial and error of course. I remember that every August without fail our air conditioner would break down in the house we were renting. While it was being repaired we would sleep outside at night on the trampoline. I also spent some time at my grandparents cabin in Greer. We would in some years go for much of the month of August and I would sew like crazy making my school dresses, etc. My grandmother would buy fabric at the T.G.&Y in Showlow and I would make dresses for my cousin that was just older than me. I didn't really know her, she was not a first cousin and their family lived in Tempe I think. Grandma was always trying to help out with clothes and food for them, so I made a few dresses for her. I would also sew for my younger girl cousins and with the money I earned from that would buy, you guessed it, more fabric for me. Much easier to me than chopping cotton. I learned to crochet in that cabin too. I remember the first afgan I made. It was lavender, white and pink. Wow. I was making it to match my room. I eventually finished it, long after it would ever match my room. August has lots of memories for me. Walks down to the creek (where all the stinging nettle was) and up the mountain to the spring house behind the cabin. Trips to the “tootsie roll store” that was really a little country store right outside Springerville with Grandpa. Fishing trips to the surrounding lakes to catch rainbow trout. Over to the Butler's store in Greer, and of course visiting the cabins of neighbors on the mountain. Mac, Mr. and Mrs. Green, and Shreve Peterson are the ones that stick out in my memory.

After my Junior year in high school, we didn't go to the cabin anymore. I haven't been there since, except to drive by it a couple of times in our travels. I didn't have a real close relationship to my maternal grandparents, but of all the memories I do have the happiest are at the cabin. I appreciate the time we were able to spend there and the great memories and skills I took with me from those days. It was like a time bubble there and life was slower and more simple. It is my dream to try and leave a legacy like that to my family someday. Who knows, it could happen. With luck and lots of prayer.

August is only half here now. I can't say I'm ever sorry to see it go. We still have a few birthdays to celebrate and commemorate. Even an anniversary at the end of the month. Only crazy people get married in August in Arizona. But then, we are all a little crazy. Pre-requisite in this family. September, although still hot brings the promise of cooler days and speaks loud and clear that the best months are just around the corner.