I remember
as a child, sitting cross-legged in the grass, barefoot, wearing shorts
and shirtless, eating large pieces of watermelon with juice running down
my chin and across my belly. After eating as much as we could, we'd
be a mess.
Clean up could
be fun though. If we were at the creek, back into the water or if
we were home, we'd run through the sprinkler until we were clean or they
would spray us with the water hose.
What kind of melon
did you like best? Those big round ones with the dark green rind or those
long ones that were a light green. How did you like it sliced? Thick
slices across like a half moon, or those long slices the length of the
melon that look like canoes when you finished?
When did they taste best?
After earning them for working in the yard or when you had dinner in the
back yard because the house was too warm. They were always great at the
picnic at the local swimming hole.
I remember
how good they were when we took a break in the hayfield when baling hay.
They were good eating in the dark too; like in the middle of your neighbor's
melon patch late at night.
Some how it
isn't the same when I visit my local restaurant and see those melon balls
on the salad bar. I don't care if they have 3 or 4 varieties and
they're good for us. It's just not the same and I'll be danged if I'll
eat them with the same gusto as when we had real watermelons.
Why, it would be a shame if I got watermelon
juice on my shirt. I have to politely put my seeds on the edge of
my plate instead of seeing who can spit them the farthest. Heck! How can
you have a seed spitting contest with a seedless watermelon.
Even buying
them at the market isn't the same as buying them from a farmer sitting
in the back of a truck on the side of the road.
Oh for the days of
our youth, when the pleasures were few and simple like swimming in a shallow
creek on a hot afternoon, swinging on a rope hanging from a tree limb and
screaming like Tarzan. Lying in the grass after eating our fill from
a spring chilled watermelon.
Well, I've had
my watermelon, although it wasn't as good as I remember, it was pretty
good. I think I'll lie down, take a nap and maybe visit the old days when
we had seed spitting contests, and the rinds would be piled up like bones
in a boneyard. |