Mulling over my
childhood memories looking for blog material I came across these two
goodies. Both are from the time that I
was seven or eight and Jerry was five or six.
The back yard of our
house in Riverside was rather large. Our
father wanted to plant a vegetable garden.
In the way of that activity was a large patch of burr clover, reaching from
one side of the yard to the other. Jerry
and I were charged with removing the patch.
This we did by rolling it up like a carpet, pulling up individual roots
as they appeared. The subsequent garden
provided vegetables for many dinners.
One Easter Jerry and I
received a baby duckling. That
Thanksgiving we had roast duck for dinner.
I am not sure how I did not come to hate life on the farm after that.
