Budweiser, blue jeans, cowboy boots, the smell of hay, sitting in the backyard on a cool morning, driving through the country with the windows down and Waylon in the CD player, Gerry playing his guitar on the front porch, the sound of Wesley's car pulling in our gravel driveway, fried okra, tomato sandwiches, chickens clucking, the smell of tomato leaves, dark chocolate, popcorn, farmer asking me if I would like him to tote the 'maters to the car for me, another farmer asking me if I want some 'taters, watching five episodes of The Killing on Saturday afternoons with Gerry, rain, more rain, Gerry's mother saying "do you love me?", my mother saying, "don't I look pretty?", fields of green and wildflowers in the mountains, a picnic with Wes, a hike with Gerry, Bloody Marys with friends, beer with friends, lunch with friends, playing corn hole and pool and foozball with friends, saying hello to my skateboard, a small but productive garden, herbs growing- mint, basil, rosemary, parsley, tarragon, building a chicken coop, cleaning said chicken coop.......
These were the things of my summer, random things that come to mind as I type, my last two hours of my 53rd year of living. September 23, I will be 54......... summer gone, fall is here.
I still want a red ford pickup with white lettering on the tailgate, like the one my daddy had. I used to sit on his lap behind the wheel when I was a little girl and he would let me drive up Hwy 501 between Myrtle Beach and Conway, SC. It was a two lane road that ran through a pine forest back then. Now it is a four lane road that runs through a factory outlet store forest. My dad always had a pickup. A truck is a useful thing, I wonder why I have never had one, since I pretty much grew up in one. He hauled furniture with it.... he upholstered furniture for interior designers and motels and local folks at night after his day job. He had a shop in an old tobacco barn on a farm in Conway that belonged to Miss Dunn. That's all I know. There were cows. He would come home from work, eat supper and then I would ride back over to Conway with him while he worked, late into the night. I went with him to pick up and deliver the work too. I used to hate having to carry those damn sleeper sofas. I weighed about 80 pounds and I was carrying these big mofo pieces of furniture. Sometimes we would show up at a house where a classmate lived. I would be embarrassed. When I was a 13 year old brat, he drove me to school and I would make him drop me off a block away so no one would see me coming to school in a pick up truck, especially when he had the red one. Funny, now I would give anything to have that truck, sit beside him in it, I would be proud to be with him....... wish I knew then what I know now....... I hope he knows. Yesterday, I drove to Winston Salem to have lunch with Wesley. I have a 4 CD pack of Waylon Jennings music, played them all on my drive and it got me to missing my dad. He always had a tape in his 8 track tape player, even when he was passed out on the sofa at 3am. I would sneak in to the living room to take it out and it would wake him up. He would say, "put it back in hot shot". That's what he called me.
Hot shot.... ha:)
I don't know what got me started down this road, I was going to write about what a perfect world would be..... Ahhhh....... birthdays, I bought a six pack of Bud to get me through another one.
I was raised in the South, what can I say......