Ah, how interesting! I am perusing “Cooking With Robert St. John” on A2 of the Laurel Leader-Call. Upon reading, I am recognizing similarities of my reminiscences of my Mississippi childhood to Robert St. John’s. It does make complete sense because I am at the same age as he is, too.

I rode my bicycle up and down the dirt roads to interact with my cousins.

I was always bare-foot in the country but put on shoes when we made excursions to the big city of Laurel, Mississippi. I was always tickled to get to stop at McDonald’s with my family. I remember, so vividly, on one excursion from the city, promptly asking my mother if I would ever get tired of eating hamburgers. She giggled. I do not rate hamburgers as highly as I did then, but still I enjoy them occassionally.

Dad has always been a successful gardener, so we never went hungry. We had the best fruits and vegetables at our table. We all joined in to plant and harvest everything. I didn’t enjoy weeding, though. Don’t tell my Dad, but I accidentally pulled the plant out of the ground while weeding, but hurriedly chunked it … lol.

The crops were all a success. The family and I enjoyed the rewards of our labor upon our picnic table in the back-yard, such as cantaloupes and watermelons.

As Robert St. John, I loved the scent of freshly-mown grass. The scent reminded me of freshly cut watermelons.

I remember, during the hot summer-time, taking turns with the others, making gargling sounds through the old-timed fans, while making sure we didn’t get too close to the fan.

Oh, the times of the past, seemingly so very far away, filter through my mind and send a refreshment inwardly. Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives … said, oh so many times by MacDonald Carey.

Glenda Flynt



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