| Family Non-Fiction posted September 18, 2015 |
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Cherry picking in the fifties
Happy Days
by prettybluebirds
I remember summertime in the fifties; picking cherries in dad's orchards all day. Stuffing ourselves, juice running down our arms, sweat bees stinging. We couldn't wait for five o'clock to drive down to the lake and plunge into the cool water.
Later, we had a campfire under the old maple tree. We roasted marshmallows, and hot dogs, drank soda, sang songs and laughed, boy did we laugh. How we enjoyed those summertime days.
Then there was Mrs. Guzman, she couldn't speak English. The only English word she knew was eating. Eat, eat, eat she would say to all who came near. Tacos, tamales, burritos, anything Mexican, but eater beware, her food would make your eyes tear. It was hot beyond hot and burned all the way down it was best to have a jug of water handy. We all loved Mrs. Guzman though; she was one of the jolliest people I have ever known.
My mother cooked huge meals and fed the pickers who were our relatives. There were children running everywhere, sticky with watermelon juice and buttered corn on the cob. What a time we all had. Even the dog and the barn cats lay in the shade, too full to move.
Life was good and it's for sure; nobody ever left the farm hungry. If they did it was nobody's fault but heir own.
The Enjoyment of Eating! writing prompt entry
I remember summertime in the fifties; picking cherries in dad's orchards all day. Stuffing ourselves, juice running down our arms, sweat bees stinging. We couldn't wait for five o'clock to drive down to the lake and plunge into the cool water.
Later, we had a campfire under the old maple tree. We roasted marshmallows, and hot dogs, drank soda, sang songs and laughed, boy did we laugh. How we enjoyed those summertime days.
Then there was Mrs. Guzman, she couldn't speak English. The only English word she knew was eating. Eat, eat, eat she would say to all who came near. Tacos, tamales, burritos, anything Mexican, but eater beware, her food would make your eyes tear. It was hot beyond hot and burned all the way down it was best to have a jug of water handy. We all loved Mrs. Guzman though; she was one of the jolliest people I have ever known.
My mother cooked huge meals and fed the pickers who were our relatives. There were children running everywhere, sticky with watermelon juice and buttered corn on the cob. What a time we all had. Even the dog and the barn cats lay in the shade, too full to move.
Life was good and it's for sure; nobody ever left the farm hungry. If they did it was nobody's fault but heir own.
Later, we had a campfire under the old maple tree. We roasted marshmallows, and hot dogs, drank soda, sang songs and laughed, boy did we laugh. How we enjoyed those summertime days.
Then there was Mrs. Guzman, she couldn't speak English. The only English word she knew was eating. Eat, eat, eat she would say to all who came near. Tacos, tamales, burritos, anything Mexican, but eater beware, her food would make your eyes tear. It was hot beyond hot and burned all the way down it was best to have a jug of water handy. We all loved Mrs. Guzman though; she was one of the jolliest people I have ever known.
My mother cooked huge meals and fed the pickers who were our relatives. There were children running everywhere, sticky with watermelon juice and buttered corn on the cob. What a time we all had. Even the dog and the barn cats lay in the shade, too full to move.
Life was good and it's for sure; nobody ever left the farm hungry. If they did it was nobody's fault but heir own.
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Writing Prompt The enjoyment of eating! Yes, the contest entries can be about eating enjoyment, but they can also be about enjoyable times that happened while eating. Topic does not have to be addressed directly, but must be incorporated into piece. Readers should be able to laugh at the entries! Any type of submission, poetry, non-fiction, fiction, etc., is welcome. Works must be 300 words or less. Word count must be listed in author's notes. |
 Recognized |
The same family of Mexicans came every year to pick cherries for my dad. We grew up together and had some great times during cherry picking season. Some of my favorite memories come from this time in my life. There really was a Mrs. Guzman and all she ever wanted to do was feed all of us kids. word count 226
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