F is for Field

Growing up on the cotton farm, pasture and fields surrounded us.  The fields were full of cotton, corn, and maize, mostly cotton.  The fields were vast and stretched out to the horizon everywhere we looked, except for a large pasture on one side.  Besides playing in the fields and riding our bicycles down the trenches, we also had to take our turn picking cotton in the summer.  Daddy left about an acre for us to pick and hired sharecroppers to pick the rest until he got the cotton picker.  I’ll be posting more about this in another post.

the cotton field

Most of the summer we would play games in the fields, jumping over the rows and running down the trenches in between to the end and playing hide and seek as the plants grew denser and taller.  The corn eventually towered over our heads.

It’s no wonder we were a bunch of skinny kids with all the exercise we got.  I think the only time we were ever still was when we got in bed and even then, it took us a while to quiet down.  We were usually too excited to sleep.  Instead, we giggled and talked under the covers, especially when the five of us girls shared a big bed.