Wish you were here to enjoy a large slice of ice cold yellow-meated watermelon, and a spontaneous dip in the creek....
Nope, neither of these pairs of legs are mine. I was not adventurous enough to go into the water.
I guess any state that has watermelons has one place that supposedly grows the best melons, and every little watermelon stand you see claims their melons come from that place. Around here, that place is Sugartown, which is where I bought this melon and others, at a jacked-up price, only to arrive at my uncle's house for him to tell me this guy did not get those melons from Sugartown! Lucky for the watermelon peddler, the melons were delicious. We still have two more, one red and one yellow, waiting to be cut.
I was also looking for pink-eyed purple hull peas and did not find any. Uncle said I should have been there last week. Talking about fresh peas makes me nostalgic, makes me wish I could sit at my grandparents' table one more time....
Grandmother cooked on a wood stove:
peas, butterbeans, cornbread, biscuits.
For desert, we ate canned peaches.
When everyone left the table,
Grandfather winked and smiled at me
as we divided what was left
of the peach juice into our bowls
and drank life’s syrupy sweetness.