"MY GARDEN PLANTS...ARE LAUGHING WITH JOY---JUST TO BE ALIVE!"

MIL'S 'MATERS 2016

MIL'S 'MATERS, 2018


PLANTING DAY 22 MAY, 2018



      WALLY'S MATERS, late April, 2019

 "MY GARDEN PLANTS...ARE DANCING WITH JOY---JUST TO BE ALIVE!"
Mil's Dad, 1975

My daddy, a West Texas cotton-

farming boy from early 20th 

Century days could grow things

in his garden, better'n just about 

anybody I ever knew....(until I met

those Southern Boys, Bubba and

Wally, and that's a whole 'nother

story...)

Why Dad could graft a green apple

branch onto a red apple tree and 

it would grow apples...I've forgotten

what color...yes, he done it more'

once't. He knew when to spray his 

apple trees and cherry trees against

worms and how many times to do it

and he and mama had dozens of

bushels of apples for ever body and

a front closet full of canned cherry

preserves, in handy pint Mason jars.

They canned many jars of green

beans and black-eye peas, and the

whole family could not wait for their

annual gift jar of "chow-chow," a

forgotten or unheard of thing by

modern folks, who never heard of

red beans and cornbread either.

You could always find MY short-

lived yellow squash plants by the

gray-moving -cover (squash bugs)

ever present 'til my plants died...

but those hardy bugs kep away

from Dad's squash...he kilt 'em

quick-like... as if "some can grow

stuff...and some can't..." an' they

et plenty o' squashes...Mama liked

to mix 'em up with copious butter,

her main Dawson County sauce. 

Over on Reid Street in Olde Great

Clovis during WWII, we had a

Victory Garden every year and guess

whose job it was to weed and tend

it...and pick beans and water maters...

But Dad hisself liked fooling with the 

maters and picking them and giving 

me advice, but as said, I was the 

hoer. 

When it came to gardening you 

could never beat Dad...he had a long

head start... except in later life I think

I out-done him on tomato growin' and

he got downright jealous, and he

copied my fertilizer, I'm pretty sure.

Well, what else could I grow at my 

"new" place (1985) here on the Mesa

in the shade of the Watermelon Mtns.--

our place was covered with grass, 

cement, and gravel...except my Earth

Boxes! Almost no plain old empty dirt...

One morning, maybe about 1975 and

over there in my hometown of Clovis,

in Dad's cool, green, trees-plants-

grassy-backyard ...he was settin' there

in his old rusted steel lawn chair against

the house with my little son, Brian...in 

the other old chair..and he was musing 

out loud about things, and he said: (and

my boy never forgot it):

       "I love to sit out here early in

         the morning, when the air is 

         fresh and cool and there is 

         dew over everything...and

         watch my little plants, laughing

         for joy...just to be alive."

Early Americans knew what it was to

struggle...for all things...just to survive...

-------

EARLY FATHER'S DAY TRIBUTE

29 APRIL 2019

BY MIL

( a piece written in the  new

   "block-poem" style...)

(edited by Mil)