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It
is sometimes remarkable what triggers memories embedded in the confines
of the memory bank; activities and events of by-gone days; rarely
conjured, but not entirely forgotten.
An episode of a recent PBS gardening show was one such program that
brought back recollections of childhood in a semi-rural area of
northeast Houston in
the 1940’s, before expansion of the city boundaries. My parents
always had a fairly sizeable garden, yearly, growing everything
from “B” (beans) to “Z” (zucchini).
For some unexplained reason, one growing season was exceptional.
Whether it was a combination of temperature, moisture, and soil
conditions remains unknown to me. The crops were bountiful! One,
in particular, was the okra. The plants grew to a height requiring
a step-ladder to retrieve the upper pods. And, the pods themselves
grew to lengths of 10-plus inches. And, they were as tender as normal
pods in the 5-inch range. Dad saved some of the seed to plant the
following year; but, the resulting yield was a normal plant height
and pod length.
During times of harvest, mom spent hours canning the vegetables
for meals in later months. She also made jams and jellies from the
varieties of grapes, elderberry, figs, plums, and blackberries grown.
In season, we also had fresh cumquats and persimmons for snacks.
Other sources of food included raising chickens and ducks for both
meat and eggs, rabbits, and fish from both fresh water and salt
water catches. One year, dad and a neighbor raised a hog for slaughter.
While other luxuries of life were slim, we ate well!
In today’s society, such home-grown resources would be restricted
by neighborhood or city regulations…
© Bruce Martin
They
Shoe Horses, Don't They?
April 9, 2014 Guest column
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