Ditch Daisies

  Years and years ago, I used to love visiting my grandparents.  We had a special bond that spanned the generations.  Grandparents and grandchildren are good for each other.  It is a proven fact that older folks live longer and happier when they spend time with the grandbabies.  As a kid, I was allowed to trot down the road and then up the long lane to stay with my granddad and grandmother.  It seemed to be a magical thing and the right thing.  There was no trying to cram a year's worth of interaction in two days of visiting like it is nowadays.  Folks lived closer together and took care of each other.  Not now.  But that is a different story for a different day.  My tale, today, is of time spent with Granddaddy and Grandmother....days I will cherish always.  

  More oft than not, Granddaddy and I would wind up working in his flower gardens.  Correction!  "Grandmother's gardens"!  He always called the gardens Grandmother's Gardens even though she never planted a single seed.  He dug the gardens, planted the seeds, weeded, watered and tended each plant.  Grandmother would occasionally take her tiny snips and a huge flat, flower basket out to the gardens to pick flowers but that is as far as she got.  Granddaddy did the work...and, occasionally, I was allowed to help.  During our work time, he taught me the names of the flowers, how each loved to grow and how to appreciate each bloom as if it had opened just for me.  I am still doing what he taught.

  This morning, the sun glinted off of some bright, yellow daisy-like flowers that were blooming in the marsh.  While the bright blooms brought a smile, it was the flood of memories that stayed with me throughout the day.  "Ditch daisies!" One uncle always called the yellow blooms by this name as he was pushing his lawnmower to snip the daisies to the ground.  "Ditch daisies"...he sounded repulsed by the very sound of the name.  His mower made short work of the pretty blooms.  It always made me sad to think of the little, yellow petals being torn from the stems.  Granddaddy, on the other hand, allowed the daisies to bloom where they may.  Each year, the yard between his driveway and shed was completely filled with the bouncy flowers.  It was literally like a sea of yellow and I thought it was absolutely gorgeous.  Sometimes, I ponder if Granddaddy would let the daisies take over the yard merely to irk my uncle when he came to visit.  

  It was Granddaddy's teachings that made me appreciate the "Ditch Daisies" in my life.  Whenever I find any wild bloom, I immediately marvel at the beauty.  It matters not that others see these as weeds.  Granddaddy had made sure that I knew that "We are all weeds, until we bloom."  I am ok with being a Ditch Daisy.

Feeling a bit nostalgic about Carnivals, Halloween and Ditch Daisies!

  It always happens just about this time of year.  My brain starts telling me that I should be pulling out all of the Fall and Halloween decorations.  I long to drape the stair rails with garlands of orange and red leaves and place pumpkins in every nook and cranny.  My son always tells me that it is too early and squashes any hopes of the place being festive any time soon.  His view is that one week of the decorations is enough.  If I had my way, the Little Bayou House would be bedecked year round!  Secretly, as soon as I finish refurbishing the craft room, I plan on pulling the decorations from the upstairs closet.  At least I can get a "feel" for the upcoming holiday season!  I mean, my goodness, why wait?  There are too many pretties hiding in the closet!  They should be showcased not hidden away in the dark depths of some creepy closet!

  To further push my yearning for Fall decorations, Mother Nature splashed the edge of the woods with daisies!  The bright yellow blooms brought back a flood of memories!  When I was just a youngster, Pop always seemed to be in charge of the Halloween Carnival at the local elementary school.  Since everything back in the day was a lot simpler, decorations for the event were made not bought.  His budget for staging the huge, fun-filled carnival was about $50!  Hundreds of kids made their way through the carnival playing games and getting prizes.  The tickets were twenty for a $1 which made it highly affordable for most everyone. The PTA was the sponsor and always made a hefty profit off of the event. That money was immediately spent for the betterment of the school. 

   But back to those decorations!  Months before the carnival, Pop would start getting prizes, food and equipment donated.  Decorations were handmade.  I can remember creating a lot of the decorations even as young as I was.  Painting cardboard Jack-O-lanterns, folding orange and black crepe paper streamers and hand-stamping brown paper goody bags all needed the attention of the younger kids in the family.  The older siblings were put to work sorting prizes and filling goody bags.  The day before the actual carnival saw the whole family in action!  Pop's booth was always the Balloon Burst!  The object was to throw a dart at a board filled with balloons. (Yep, he used real darts with metal points.)  If you popped one, you got a prize...with Pop, if you didn't hit one you got a prize!  He thought every kid should be happy!  We blew up all of those balloons!  (Thank goodness for an air compressor!) Those several hundred, inflated balloons were awfully fun to tote to the school!  Also on the day of the carnival, we headed out in the old Studebaker station wagon to pick any and all daisies we could find on the sides of the road. (Hence the name "Ditch Daisies"!)  It never dawned on me back in the day but I am certain that more than a few folks thought we were crazy as the kids scrambled about in the ditches to pick armloads of the weeds!  Back home, Mom would place these in paper covered buckets and they, too, were hauled to the school.  Every classroom had daisies!  The hallways had daisies!  The cafeteria had daisies!  It was gorgeous!

  I am quite certain that none of this could ever be done today.  If a carnival at all was to be held nowadays, it most likely would have to be a "Fall Carnival" to be "politically correct".  The PTA (is there even any such organization today?) would have to set forth a huge budget to pay for the attractions, not to mention have to charge a huge admission to cover that budget.  Those attractions would not consist of things like "Beanbag Toss", "Cake Walk", "Balloon Burst", "White Elephant Booth", "Fish Pond", "Fortune Teller's Booth" or most likely not even the "Basketball Throw".  Nope, now they would be some strange inflatable or electronic games.  Prizes would not be donated (sometimes broken) costume jewelry, old toys, pencils with company logos and baggies filled with homemade candy. The food would not be homemade treats such as popcorn balls, brownies or pies.  Everything would have to be prepackaged, store-bought, sugary treats.  Something is very wrong with this picture....very wrong.

  I miss the old time Halloween Carnivals.  I miss the homemade decorations.  I miss the popcorn balls, brownies and pies.  I miss the simplicity of the times, the innocence of Halloween, the family oriented events and months-long preparations that involved whole families not just the adults.  Believe it or not, it was fun for the kids to be included and not just have everything handed to them.  Yep, I sure had a blast of nostalgia today.  These wonderful memories fed a yearning to take a step back in time...or maybe one into the future.

Fall..or falling!

I discovered a new fact this morning..when you get older, you do not sprain your ankle when falling in an armadillo hole! I thought I might share this with any who are thinking of growing old or those like me who did not think about it at all..it just happened. Yes, you read it right..you do not sprain your ankle..I think you sprain every part of your body! Yesterday afternoon, I was picking persimmons at my uncle's house and not paying attention as to where I was putting my feet. Those beautiful orange globes were demanding that I look straight at them and not the ground. Under this particular tree there was quite a bit of tall grass that had lain over making a perfect carpet. This carpeting was hiding several large holes that were the perfect size for my foot. I reached for a beautiful persimmon near the top of the tree..ahh got it! I stepped back and down I went. I tumbled forward, hit my knee, rolled to the side and caught myself with my left hand. Through all of this, I can proudly say that I never dropped my prize! The soft ripe fruit remained intact in my right hand! All was good! Not so this morning, though. Ms. Put woke me at 5 Am with.."I need to go outside..NOW!" I hopped out of bed and..OWWW!..fell back over. Pain shot through the ankle..Oh my!..I gingerly stood again..Ok, that was better..if I took it real slow and easy the ankle did not hurt as bad. Step..OWW! The left knee let out a loud "POP"! Knees are not supposed to pop! I bent over to rub the knee..OWW!..the left shoulder let me know that it too was sore. My, oh, my! Ms. Put looked a mite miffed by this time and wandered into the laundry room to her litter box. I hobbled, stumbled and limped my way to the kitchen where the bushel of persimmons sat in the corner. It had to be my imagination but I thought I heard them snicker at me! I will show them..tomorrow they will become persimmon jam!

We are in the middle of another dry spell here on the Bayou so I had to take the hose to the flower gardens. Not much is left other than the Blackeyed Susans, Marigolds and Wild Ageratums . The purple of the Ageratums is one of my favorites of this time of year. I remember it growing wild on the fence rows in the cornfields when I was a kid. It never failed to thrill me to see this and the yellow "ditch" daisies blooming as they both were wonderful lures for the butterflies and hummingbirds. My dad would never allow weeds in any of his gardens, but now I just let these to grow where they will in my yard. I suppose that I am not a neat gardener since these..umm.."wildflowers" make their home right along side of any flowers that I might have seeded. Still, I like them..they make a statement in the flower beds..even if that statement is that I do not like weeding!