I remember
A tall figure dressed before sunrise
Black singlet, army shorts and gumboots
Always tail-wagging best mate in tow.
On a morning wet with no rain
Bright without sharpness
Warm on the skin but cold in the nose.
His trusty red tractor, he sits
Separated from soil
Harvesting commenced.
Purple tubers on fertile soil
Propped-up wooden boxes
Soon filled with fresh kumara.
Ready for us by autumn end
Car packed to bursting
Kumaras and free-range kids.
Sunset and curtains drawn
Roasted lamb and kumara
Thank you, Grandad.
Life at No. 22 
Priceless early photographs; a fine poetic tribute to your grandfather; and thank you so much for the name of sweet potatoes
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You’re welcome, Derrick and I will have to find some unique words.
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Love the old photos. They speak of much simpler times, not easier, but definitely more connected to life and the world around us. Thanks for sharing. Mel
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Oh, that is a really lovely poem, Suzanne. You should make a book of these family stories and photos.
Your grandfather was so tall and I see that your mother inherited this trait. Or perhaps it was the kumara?
The trauma of war is felt across generations. I often wonder how much this contributed to the less than wonderful childhood of so many of us.
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Thanks very much, Tracy that is very kind that you think I could actually write a book. Hahaha, yes the good carbs and dietary fibre make us tall and strong.
I would say that the numerous wars have certainly made their mark on our childhoods, how could stress and trauma not make an impact on the men and woman who went away to war. Even now it is still happening though hopefully the return to civilian life isn’t so traumatic for all concerned.
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Loved the photos and poem. I like that one of your mum with the cat, especially. Always learning a new word with you! Kumara. Hmm. Purple on the outside, what color inside?
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Oh thanks very much, Eilene, and I love that I am introducing you to new words. The purple kumara has a creamy inner. There are orange varieties and some people have the original Maori kumara which isn’t so marketable for various reasons. Many of the heirloom variations of vegetables or fruit they have been altered to be more consumer attractive.
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I think that’s the same about everywhere. We like boring food.
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Perfect form without blemishes more so than boring, give me imperfection home grown vegetables any day.
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I love that picture of your grandad at the end of your post. Although I loved my grandad, I remember as always being old. He’d more likely show up in a tie and hat than shorts and a tank top. 🙂
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Thanks Janis, our other grandfather who loved bowling was always in trousers and a shirt even when tending his vegetable garden. I think sometimes he used to wear a tie. Always neat and tidy for his bowling games.
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Great photos and poem! Great to grow up with the wind in your hair.
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It took me a while to latch on to kumara, but it’s obvious looking back. How different were those times? A happy childhood, Suzanne?
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Jo, it was when we were visiting Nana and being adventurous around our neighbourhood 🙂 . No childhood is ever perfect no matter what people may think. It was certainly a very different era.
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Mine was far short, Suzanne. What would they make of today’s world, I wonder? 🥴🩷
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Too fast and has way too much consumerism. Nana would always keep an interest in what everyone was doing. I am sure she would still be writing letters to Mum and I even in this computer age.
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🤗💗
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