A little bit of perfect

I’m going to take you on a itty bitty journey and give you a tiny glimpse of my world which may give you insight to my future ramblings:  A little girl of 4 “going to be 5” and I’m wearing a dark blue sweater, jeans, and a hat – embarking on the daunting task of pulling weeds……..and having my Pop gently stop me with the words and chuckle “Mija, those aren’t weeds”  I don’t know if I said anything to him but I mean after all I’m 4 and darn if I didn’t know a thing or two by then.  He smiled and squeezed my shoulder and showed me the difference between the chili plants and the weeds.  His loving guidance:  I knew I was loved, I wasn’t very smart but I was loved.

His kindness and care for the land/animals was my introduction to farming and my primary influence AND where else could I play in dirt and not get into trouble for it….?  So at the mature age of 4 my world was perfect: listening to my Pop’s dichos (Spanish sayings); singing to Hank Williams; Merle Haggard, Johnny Cash, Patsy Cline; pulling weeds; playing in the dirt and mud; eating bologna and green chili on homemade tortillas (OMG, this is a great meal); drinking cool water from a canvas bag that my Pop had hanging from the gas cap on the truck and feeling the freshness of the water spilling off the sides of my lips; and being in the sun.  Looking back – yes, it was perfect.


2 thoughts on “A little bit of perfect”

  1. At the ripe old age of 4, my Grandpa Skeen introduced me to coffee (in a saucer to cool), gathering eggs and shutting the gate. My Grandma Skeen introduced me to “lumpy” cream of wheat. We each had a cup and every morning we would go to the grainery and get a cup of wheat, come back to the house, grind it and take it to Grandma to cook especially for us. To this day, I like lumps in my cream of wheat.


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