Cotton Picking

Hope everyone is up and have your “cotton picking” pants on.
Isn’t it amazing when a smell can jar a memory?
This morning while walking, I smelt a memory of years long ago. Back to childhood. The smell of dew on cotton.
The best time to pick cotton was early in the morning while the dew was still on the cotton. This meant a heavier weigh out in the afternoon. That’s what my Dad would say, and I believed my Daddy. If you were a cotton picker, you know this is true.
I can hear my Daddy say, “I will help you catch up.” The rows were long, the sun would beat down, but there was work to be done. (My Daddy could pick some cotton.)
I hope today you have a smell that jars your memory of years long gone.

I can imagine what children would say today if their parents told them it was time to head to the cotton field.


A Strong Woman


With age comes wisdom along with grey hair, wrinkles, and a few other things I won’t mention.

Some things I’ve learned along the way.

Not every marriage made in heaven. I’m sure there’s been a little hell thrown in there now and then.
Not every marriage made in hell. There had to be a little heaven in there, or you wouldn’t have married. Right?

I know you’ve heard, “That person is no good.”
There’s some good in everyone. Sometimes you have to look a little deeper.

Every day isn’t bad. Every day isn’t right. Sometimes it’s our mindset. Sometimes it’s our attitude. Sometimes it’s just us. Sometimes it’s who we spend time. 

I have another day, so I think I will be thankful, do the best I can, and live.