It's also National Farmers' Day

 

So here's a big shout-out to the people who work hard to make sure we have so many of life's essentials, whether it's food or the clothes on our backs.

The Paco clan (on my father's side) were farmers going back to the early 18th century, when the first Paco was "transported" to the shores of this great country as an indentured servant (probably stole a silver spoon or a cow or something back in Old Blighty). For the last few generations, at least, the Pacos were primarily cotton farmers. My grandmother maintained what she called her "garden", which was, in reality, several acres planted in corn, melons, green beans and tomatoes, much of which she canned for her extended family. I have a cousin who raised cows and pigs before going into the lumber business, and there are others who lived from farming various cash crops.

Some of the happiest moments of my life were spent on grandma Paco's little vegetable farm, picking corn and green beans. We'd sit in the shade of her giant pecan trees in the late afternoon, snapping beans and shucking corn, and we'd drink cold apple cider that my Uncle Otha made using his apple press. Then, in the evening, we'd go inside for a supper of pot roast or picnic shoulder, and sides of rice and black-eyed peas (and green beans, of course) and hot, fresh, homemade yeast rolls - followed up with slices of yellow cake with milk-chocolate icing, and gallons of sweet iced tea. I still recollect the overwhelming sense of peace and contentment from those visits to the farm, and the genuine love we all felt for one another. My idea of heaven.