Mama has not had her hair did since she went in the hospital almost two months ago. Her usual do is a large poof of helmet hair sprayed in place, old lady style. She can't even see her hair because she's blind, yet she's worried because it's so straight. On mother's day I did it with a curling iron....today we used old school sponge rollers and a spray bottle of water while she sat in the wheel chair. I ran a few errands and returned with a blow dryer and comb to finish things up. She instructed me to spray it so that it'll last longer. Yes ma'am. Appearance has always been very important to her and unfortunately I didn't inherit that trait, instead running wild outdoors with my hair in a chip clip and just looking for a chance to get dirty. Right now, it's way too hot for me so I'm taptaptapping under the AC. For those of you who don't believe global warming is real, kiss my ass and look at the thermometer. It ain't even summer yet! It makes me ache to sit in a rock filled stream and just chill.
Time and again I find myself drawn to the history of our farm, the community that has raised several generations of families side by side, divided by a simple road. Johnsons to the right, Calcutts via Staffords to the left. I stopped by the dairy barn today to shoot pics of several doors that are to be replaced. All of the old wooden campaign signs are gone and there is cotton planted behind the barn where hay once was the only crop. That means more and more chemicals and spraying, and I've noticed that even the perennials in my yard have yellow spots from stray particles. It could all be done in a much less toxic way, but that's Monsanto and the American dream for you. Last year we were children of the corn, this year we're in the cotton patch. Defoliation ought to be a real doozie for our lungs! My brother and his wife dreamed of a vineyard on the sloping banks behind that barn. Perfect place for that plus a punkin' patch or two. The way that the Forked Deer river loops around the place, it's prime for fishing and whatnot. I totally prefer not to think about what's being dumped into it by corporate Dyersburg.
There is a picture SOMEWHERE of an asparagus picking crew in front of the shed that sat right across from my house. The entire field was planted with spears and they picked and packed for shipment to here there and yon. The father of one of my school friends is pictured there as a young boy prior to the great depression and the boom that followed WWII. I can see it just like it's in front of me, but can't find the print. Dammit!
Enough about me. I'll be working this weekend and off on Memorial day which is one holiday that I won't take for granted. Too many Americans have fought and died to protect our freedoms to not give pause and wonder what it's all about. I particularly feel for Vietnam and Iraq/Afghanistan vets because they didn't have a clue what they were getting into and were...and continue to be..poorly cared for in terms of mental health services to help with PTSD on return to civilian life. We may say, as a country, that we honor and cherish those brave soldiers who fight our battles. But if we don't have their backs and somebody else is making money? That's just wrong. It will never be over, ya'll. Let's get the hell outta' Dodge.
There is a hummer perched outside the office window, sipping and zipping like they do. The poor flowers are about parched already but I've learned the hard way that anything in a pot needs constant attention. Which includes the marinara sauce I'm about to make.
God bless America, land that I love ^j^