Fall has me thinking about how close we were to the land on Grandaddy's farm...using every last bit of everything and giving it to some critter if we couldn't use it ourselves. Grinding sausage and seeing Grandmomma pluck the chicken she made her chicken'n dumplins from...getting itchy from snipping okra, hulling the peas, snapping our own green beans and shuckin corn careful to watch for little worms because we didn't spray poison on everything. Spending hours in the woodpile with who knows how many snakes. I tried to take one to show and tell in 1st grade, but that's a story for another day. I remember the wood stove in the kitchen that I'd accidentally leave waffle marks on my bottom with when winter hit and Grandmomma would wake me up with a cool wash cloth to the face, and I'd scurry straight to that stove with my outfit for the day. Although waffles are generally delicious, I don't recommend waffle bottom. Nowadays folks are living out of drive throughs and out of plastic bags, and they overlook the bounty around them...like all the black walnuts on the ground. Sure I may have gotten the weirdest manicure ever from hullin'em, but man, it felt good to do it again. Anyway ya'll, I'm grateful for the land and the gifts that God has blessed us with, and I'm grateful for ya'll too. Night Nnight!