I was working outside yesterday, digging up my flower and tomato beds, getting them ready for planting. As I was doing so, I found it very ironic at how much I was enjoying the task, considering how much I hated garden work when I was a kid. My sister, brother and I spent many, many hours during the summer working in the garden when we were kids. We complained so much. There were so many things we would have rather been doing.
We actually had three gardens for many years. The largest of these was at my Grandmother's (my Dad's Mom). I would call it more of a field than a garden. It was huge and we worked it too. There were rows and rows of different kinds of beans, there were peas, corn, potatoes and much more. We were involved from the planting to the harvesting. There was always something that needed done. Hoeing, thinning plants out, weeding, (I hated that part) and of course, harvesting. That wasn't the end of it, though. Once we got all these veggies home to my Mom, then we would spend hours helping her snap beans, or shell peas; whatever she needed help with. I can still see us all now, sitting around with tubs and bowls getting those veggies ready for my Mom to can or freeze.
We also shared a small garden with my Great-Grandmother (my Mom's grandma) who lived just a few houses down from where I live now. I can still hear her teasing me. I love spring onions and did even when I was a kid. I would go through the garden picking the very tops off the spring onions and eat them. She used to laugh at me. It wasn't a big garden, so there wasn't as much work involved with that one, but it added to our family food supply.
My Dad also planted a little tiny garden at our house for awhile, also. It was just planted with some vegetables like tomatoes and a few others that were easily obtainable when you wanted them. So, as you can see, I am pretty familiar with garden work.
Doing this work yesterday also brought something else to my mind too. I thought about not only the huge garden at my Grandma's, but also the work in the kitchen that we grand-daughters were responsible for too. Saturday's at her house were busy ones and noisy. There were alot of us who came to visit. She had six children, which meant plenty of grandchildren. Saturday suppers meant alot of food had to be prepared. There were at times as many as fifteen people gathered around the table for a meal. That's alot of mouths to feed! That meant my grandmother needed some help.
We were usually given menial tasks; such as peeling potatoes, stirring or just keeping an eye on something while Grandma was busy with something else, but what we learned from those tasks was invaluable. Peeling potatoes was not my favorite job, especially with my Grandma always watching. You had to make sure you didn't peel away too much of the potato or she would give you the lecture about waste. It seemed as if she had eyes in the back of her head too. She could tell, it seemed, without seeing that you peeled off a thicker piece than necessary. Because, without turning around, she would say, "Now, if you peel away half of the potato, you will have more to peel. I will have to go get more and we needn't waste like that." Even now, every time I peel a potato, I hear her. My sister and my Mom are both left-handed, which makes cutting and peeling for them kind of difficult. They both say that Grandma would be growling at them if she saw how they peel potatoes.
Grandma was an expert at making a little go a long way. I think that was one of the most valuable lessons she taught us. Let's say, she only had one pound of hamburger to work with for all of us at supper. That's not much for fifteen people. She always figured it out though. She would make a pot of hamburger gravy and with it a big pot of mashed potatoes and a lot of veggies, since that was something there was always plenty of. That was the meal and it was always satisfying and always so good. I can still remember how some things smelled and tasted. I know then, when I am making some of the same things she used to prepare, if they smell and taste like they did when she made them; I got it right.
What makes us grow to appreciate things we did not exactly enjoy doing as children? I think, at least for me, that it is a remembrance of a much more simple time, when things weren't so complicated. Especially in times like these, when prices are so high and people struggle, you really do realize how complicated we have made life. We don't need everything we have. We don't need all the convenience. We can do without so much that we take for granted. It really should be, sometimes, as simple as digging some dirt and planting the seeds.
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