Sunday, June 26, 2011

Watermelon Memories...

This afternoon Mark cut open a watermelon. I had been outside picking berries and it was hot and humid. The kind of humid that makes it hard to get a good breath. But I knew a thunderstorm was brewing and I wanted to get the berries before the rain knocked them to the ground. I came in and saw the watermelon on the kitchen counter cut into crescent shaped slices of cool yumminess.

I got my plate, my fork, the salt shaker, and headed to the couch with my slice. (Don't you know to fully enjoy a watermelon you have to sprinkle a little salt on it?)

As I sat down I thought about eating watermelon at my grandparent's house when I was growing up. Watermelons were pretty abundant in their garden and they would usually have one (or two or three) sitting on the vent in their living room when we arrived. The air vent kept the melon cool until we wore them down with the begging and then my granddaddy would take it to the back porch and cut it open.

Let the juicy mess commence. We didn't use forks though, we used butter knives to cut off chucks and to dig out the seeds. Seeds were everywhere. The whole family would sit or stand on the back porch and would spit the seeds out into the yard. Well, the adults did. We kids would try to spit them on each other and my Uncle Marty. For some reason I have a perfect picture in my mind of my daddy standing on the porch smiling and spitting seeds off the edge. After we all finished eating we would gather up the rinds and take them out to the fence to the cows. It was like the cows knew it was watermelon day and they would come up to the fence to wait for the leftovers. The chickens would also come running trying to get what they could before the cows gobbled it up.

My granddaddy would then get a five gallon bucket, fill it with water, and then would wash the porch down by throwing the water over the porch. No telling how many times he would have to fill and refill that bucket to get it completely clean. He never seemed like he minded though. I guess he would have done it all day if we kept on begging for more watermelon. My grandparents loved to give us the things we loved. They sure did give us lots of good memories.

7 comments:

  1. Awwwwwww. So sweet!

    Except for the salt thing - blech.

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  2. that's the sweetest. one of my favorite memories is sitting on my grandparents covered back patio while they made peach ice cream. my grandma would be slicing the peaches and peeling them all afternoon and i remember stuffing myself with peaches while i watched. when it was finally ready we would eat that yummy peach ice cream out of these wooden bowls that we all loved. when my grandma passed away this year the first thing i got from her house were those bowls. i haven't used them yet, still to hard to see them, but look forward to the day when i can pull them out and let my kids enjoy them :)

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  3. I love stories about when people were little and the fun times they remember!....Just wanted to let you know ..you my winner !

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  4. Those were the "good ole' days"!

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  5. It's a comfort food for you!

    So, did you spit seeds across the living room at your kiddoes?

    I can't even fathom the heat/humidity your refering too, we get on the third day of a summer hot spell and everyone runs to the local malls/theatres ect for the air conditioning... not many folks have air conditioned homes around here.

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  6. Oh yes! So many memories wash over me when we have watermelon. I can't help but wonder what my kids will remember when they hear that "scloop" sound of a watermelon being cut open.

    I also share a previous commenter's memories of peach ice cream...oooh that was the BEST. Thanks for the walk down memory lane. Lisa~

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  7. I love it! Just last week at my grandad's, my kids got a real watermelon-eating experience. They got their big slice, took it out to the grass, and ate it with nothing but their mouths. They were covered in sticky juice as they practiced spitting seeds everywhere. Until that day, they thought you ate watermelon with a fork at the table after your momma cut it up for you. Now they have their own memories.

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