|1 teaspoon of flour was added to keep this beautiful haze.|
I was born and raised in San Diego, but I spent most of my summers under 12 in Nashville with my mom, sister and Grandparents. My Mom didn't work while I was in elementary school, so she would fly back east, spending the summer months in Nashville while my Dad worked as a pilot for the US Navy. For me, this was normal, spending time with my cousins playing in the pool and working the garden that my Grandfather (Popa Charlie) had. Now, this wasn't a huge garden, but to a 6 year old this was a big plot of land suitable of feeding hundreds of people. I remember jumping off the diving board, then running over to the table to chuck green beans into a giant pile that my Grandmother would then can for the winter. After swimming we would venture into the garden looking for tomatoes and watermelon for Popa Charlie. (He loves to slice them about an inch thick and cover them with salt and pepper before dinner.) I remember walking through the garden and getting the best smells of hay, ripe veggies, vines and pine needles (from the trees the lined the back of the property.) Popa Charlie needed a tractor to maintain his property, for this he owned a little yellow tractor. I not even sure of the name, make or model, but it was his and us kids loved it as our own.