Proceed with caution! This post as most of my other post, are an English teachers nightmare!
Really the title of this post is a bit misleading. The only reason I used the word "tators" is because it rhymes with gators! We really rode a gator, 4 - wheeled gator....no silly, not the gator you are thinking about. See, since I'm the author of this post, I can write the story the way I want it to go, so here we go! Oh....what an adventure! Soon that adventure turned to work! But this urbanized country girl had forgotten the amount of work that is required to keep a farm up and running! I spent the day with my favorite sister, who come to think of it, is my only blood relative sister... (chuckle that's suppose to be funny) Let's just call her Sa Pud! Now Sara (oops I mean Sa Pud) is the only one in our family that we know that really has a brain. You see, she's had brain surgery! Praise The Lord, she is a-ok without any long term complications! We are blessed to have her as she also is a breast cancer survivor. Oops, back to my "Gators, Tators & Peas and Corn" post, because I'm not in a very serious mood to wax eloquent, I'd rather be waxing an elephant. (you can smile cause it takes less muscle than to frown) but needless to say, she's blessed and we too are blessed to have her around. While I not only got to spend the day with her on the farm, nestled deep in the beautiful green forest, I too had the opportunity to put some fresh veggies in my freezer! No, I didn't get a side of beef. I'll continue to purchase that at Kroger's and no, I didn't get any chickens. I'll take mine either grilled or fried and wait till they are served at the local KFC! (Thanks Pud for feeding the world). Another treat of the day was spending time with my beautiful Mother. As we (Sa Pud, Mom and myself) shelled two 5 gallon buckets of peas, Mom told us some pea shelling stories, one which I will share with you. Back when she was a snotty nose kid, the evangelist would often stay in tents while preaching a revival. Mother told us of how back in the 20's and 30's that they would put straw down on the ground and then stake the tent and end up living in the tent while they conducted revival services. She remembers that tents were pitched in her yard under the china berry tree. That was about the same time that linoleum was coming out. They often referred to the pine straw floor as "pineoleum". Anyway, she told how that one morning that there was something sticky in at the edge of the tent and it was running under the tent. Under further investigation, someone had given the preacher syrup and someone else had shot into the syrup bucket trying to shoot into the tent to harm the evangelist. We talked about how that also this was in the era when the ministers had to wear white shirts and ties and there was no such thing as "iron free" shirts and every thing had to be ironed with a black cast iron, iron that had to be heated in the fire. While we worked, laughed, talked and enjoyed our time together, I was thinking that I must blog this "pineoleum" story. It's stories like this that will die and go to the grave of our love one's. This one was far to good, not to document. So as my sweet Mother would say, "that is the end of my story." 
