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Date:11/26/2014 1:58:05 AM
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More on June
Big Brother Tommy and I were reminiscing about the magic of June when we were kids. Tommy remembered that as a child, June was his favorite month because it meant the end of school and the entire summer still lay ahead. Tom went on to say that to him, July meant that summer was passing and August meant the start of school.

I understand his feelings. Whenever I see the fireflies, I know that early Summer is passing into mid-Summer. For me, I would glory in the first week of Summer Vacation. (Notice the capital letters?) Then would come the weeks of hoeing. We would hoe the acre or two of field corn and then the acre of cucumbers (our cash crop in the late '60s and early '70s) and of course, the vegetable garden. Once we had hoed these fields twice, it was then late July, and time to "pick pickles".

"Picking pickles" defined the summers of my youth at La Ferme Sabloneuse. We would put in a full acre and pick half each day. All of us children and our Ma would pick. Due to a peasant riot, aided and abetted by Ma, Pa had to concede that Sunday was a day of rest. Except for Ma of course. She had to wash and clean in order to catch up on all the housework she couldn't do while "picking pickles."

But that was still in the future each June when I was a kid. At this time each year it was the sunrise coming in through our north-facing bedroom window at 5 am and sunset at 8:30 pm with lingering daylight in the northwest untill 10 pm. It was a time of birdsong and fishing with Pa and finally fireflies in the dusk. So some time this week I will sit with Big Brother Tommy on the steps of the corncrib like we used to when we were kids and we will remember Junes past. Even though we are now both in our mid-fifties, it will feel like we've never aged at all. -- Gary
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