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.
0 comments:
Post a Comment