Cotton Chopping & Sleeping Babies..........

Hello, all. It's another beautiful day here in Northeast Arkansas. Sparkling clear blue skies, almost the same color as the lovely morning glory blossom there to the left, and 70 degrees. Morning glories grow wild here, and though some of the wild ones are beautiful, they are considered an invasive weed, especially in the cotton and soybean fields. If you've never tried to chop them out of a cotton patch or garden, you truly don't know what you've been missing. You earn your money chopping cotton, especially if Johnson grass, cockleburrs, cow itch vine (it's called by the fancy name, "Trumpet Vine" in some nursery catalogs) or careless weed is involved. That's green cockleburrs to the left, under the morning glory, and a dry cockleburr under the green one. They stick to your socks and clothes, and in your feet if you step on them barefooted, too. Careless weed, top right, is called that for good reason, too. It has stickers where the leaves and stems join onto the main stem. Cow itch, or trumpet vine, the orange flowered vine, middle right, and Johnson grass, next picture under the cow itch vine, have rhyzomes that run under ground for a long way out from the main plant. They sprout a new plant at every segment if they're not dug up. On top of that, if left alone, they will sprout on top of the ground and put down new roots, too. Now, imagine that it's a bright, sunny 105 degrees in the shade, (and there's not any shade in a cotton field!!) there's not a breath of air stirring, and you are literally chopping and digging these WEEDS out of the ground, while wishing for a cold drink and a cloud to pass over for even just a moment's relief from the HEAT! Sound like fun to anyone? Anyone? No? Well, I got paid $2.00 an hour the first 2 years I chopped cotton. I was up to $3.00 an hour in 1982, the last year I chopped, and thought I was making good money at the time. Now imagine that your family farmed, and you had to get up every morning at 5 am, be in the field by 6, and chop cotton or pick it until dark-thirty. And the only pay you got for it was room and board, because it took all your Daddy could scrape together to keep everybody fed and clothed. Every once in a while, some kids got a little spending money on Saturday afternoon to go to "town", and maybe see a movie. I had a choice, but a lot of kids from my parent's generation and before didn't get to choose. Chopping and picking cotton is hard work when you're getting paid for it. I can't imagine having to work in the fields. There are very few cotton choppers around here these days, and nobody picks by hand anymore. My Mama and Daddy both picked and chopped, Mama more than Daddy. It was hard work, and a hard life, but I wonder if people are any better off or any happier with today's modern conveniences and gadgets. Another time that has come and gone, for the most part. As I've stated before in these pages, the "Good Ol' Days" are not always truthfully remembered. Just as is true for the times we live in today, there were good things and bad things about those times. Our memories tend to recall those times past with a lot more "wish it was" than truthfully happened. I think it's a very human way of coping with hardship, tragedy, loss and heartache.

Okay, enough of that, and on to some good stuff. There is a couple who are members of our church who have a 4 month old baby. He is a sweetheart, and we have really hit it off. If I can beat all the other ladies to him, I hold him every chance I get, and usually he goes to sleep in my arms before church is over. I don't think there's a better, more satisfying feeling than holding a baby in your arms, especially a baby you have rocked to sleep. I always have an aching arm and an aching heart, too. It's so worth the aching arms to be able to hold them and cradle them to your heart. The aching heart is because you're overflowing with the love and sweetness, the maternal joy and contentment of mothering that baby, even if it's not your own child. It is inbred in most of us women to nurture and comfort, to love and care for a child. How many times have you been at a mall, church, supermarket or any place where lots of people gather, and heard a child cry, "Mama!" without turning to assess the situation? It's instinct, even if you don't have children, yours are grown, or yours are not with you at the time. And every Mama knows those individual cries.... The "alarm" cry, the "danger" cry, the "pain" cry, the "just a mad fit" cry, and the hungry, sleepy, cranky---and you fill in the occasion. Not to take away anything from our Daddies who are doing their very best to nurture and care for their children, or from those women who are incapable of giving birth to children of their own or choose not to have children, but there is a connection between a Mama and her child after carrying that child cradled under her heart for 9 months. I have the greatest respect and admiration for people who choose to adopt a child or children. Sometimes they have to work extra hard to forge that parent/child relationship. And occasionally, even if you've given birth to a child there is a problem with the parent/child bonding. I am blessed beyond measure with the relationship I had with my parents, and with Jessica.

Even though my relationship with Mama and Daddy wasn't perfect by any means, there was always love. And no matter what may come and go between me and Jessica, my love for her is unshakeable. I will not always approve of her actions, but my love for her is inviolable, even in those times when I want to shake her till her teeth rattle or when I'm grieving over the circumstances she finds herself in because of bad decisions. God is ever so much more loving and patient with us, don't you think? Thank you, Lord for that love and patience. I know I try Him every day.

Well, my sister, Sue and her hubby just brought me some fresh-picked poke salad greens, and I want to fix some to go with our supper. I know my sister Donna is waiting impatiently for this new post, because she called a little while ago for another reason and told me I needed to post something new, she had already worn out the last one. So, I will hopefully get this posted and go tend to my supper for the evening. Just in case you were wondering, Baked chicken breasts, purple hull peas frozen last summer that Donna brought me, mashed potatoes and now, poke salad, probably scrambled with eggs. Mmmmmmmm.........good. Don't you wish you could come over for supper? LOL. :-)


THIS JUST IN: Boomama asked in comments about poke salad, and I Googled it. Lo and behold, there were a few fairly good pics of it in the images. I explained about what it is in my reply to her comment. I failed to tell her how to cook it, though. You wash it and pick over it like any greens, then boil them down, changing the water a time or 2 if you don't like the strong flavor so much. Drain most of the pot liqueur off and season with salt and, if desired, bacon drippings or a little oil. Cook a few minutes to season through, and serve, or break a few eggs into it and scramble together if desired. The more poke you have, the more eggs you add. I like spinach scrambled with eggs, too. Oh, you out there with your nose turned up, don't knock it till you try it! It's good stuff, I told you!

Click on any of my pictures on here to see them larger and in a little better detail.