• Archives

  • Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

  • Top Posts

  • Recent Posts

  • Recent Comments

    Doraz on Vacation
    slpmartin on Vacation
    slpmartin on MY WAY
    Doraz on Everybody wants to be someone…
    slpmartin on Everybody wants to be someone…
    Doraz on Peace
    slpmartin on Peace
    Doraz on Are you stupid?
    slpmartin on Are you stupid?
    Doraz on Life is Short”
    slpmartin on Life is Short”
    Doraz on Release pause
    slpmartin on Release pause
    Doraz on There is always love
    slpmartin on There is always love

What do you have to say‚Ķ.?

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

What is one thing you remember your dad doing that made you really APPRECIATE HIM?


Just Thought I’d Ask You This Question….5/12*

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

What is ONE lesson you remember learning from your DAD that was the MOST helpful in your life?

Is this you yet?…..Ugh-)*

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us

Blog Inspiration…….

This story was inspired by an article Luisa wrote on her blog. It brought back memories. The story is mostly true, only the author knows for sure. ; ) Let me know what you think.

When I was growing up my family always planted a garden. Even when we lived in the middle of Fresno. When we moved to Visalia my maternal Grandmother passed away and Papa came to live with us. My Dad and Papa were very close. Papa was like a mentor toward my Dad. I remember we planted a really big garden that year.
Planting day was always a big deal. A family project to plant tomatoes, squash( zucchini, yellow crookneck, coyote ) carrots, honeydew and cantaloupe melons, leaf lettuce and chard, okra, cucumbers, onions (green, red and yellow), peppers, and of course beans and black-eyed peas.
The beans and peas were always my special item to plant. I would soak them over night in water to give them a head start. Sometimes my mom would plant a row too. My plants always grew better and had more beans on them tho. My Papa said it was because my Granny’s green thumb had skipped a generation. My Mom said it was because I talked to my plants more then hers.
My Dad, Papa and I were the ones to water and weed the garden. The men would stand, arm propped on a hoe waiting for the water in the ditch to reach them. If needed, they’d be ready to dam a gopher hole or shore up the ditch walls. I would pluck a few green beans and pass them out to munch on. Or pull a carrot from the warm earth wash it with the water hose and Umm..Umm… nothing better! I remember Papa commenting that there was nothing like watching your garden grow.
I would always have to mark a tomato as mine so it wouldn’t get picked too soon. Every body picked the tomatoes too early IMO. Dad said that if you waited too long the bugs or birds would get them. I say let the birds and bugs have a bite, they know when a tomato is at it’s best! They don’t eat that much anyway.
Papa was only with us for about a year before passing on. Mom said he missed Granny too much to stay on earth any longer. That was the first time I saw my Daddy cry.
Years later when I stopped at his house on summer evenings, Dad would be out in the garden. Sometimes sitting, sometimes leaning with one arm propped up on the hoe watering. If I asked ‘Whats up?’ He would answer ‘Nothing, just watching the garden grow.

Thank you Kristi for sharing your great story!