Day 58: God, is it over yet?

Shower Thoughts:  Being proactive is rarely rewarded because if your actions avoid a tragedy, there is no tragedy to prove your actions were warranted.

Hello.  Whatcha up to?  Do you ever stare at the popcorn bumps in the ceiling and try to find shapes?  Sometimes I do.

This morning the sun is sleeping behind the clouds and doesn’t want to come out.  The traffic by about 10 a.m. is normal levels, minus the Canadian shoppers.  People are very anxious to get back to normal.  The hardware stores are busy, some taco trucks are open again.  Yep.

Mt. Rainier seen from the Puyallup Valley, Washington.

I decided to begin putting some words down on this idea for an essay.  I’m hoping to effectively use a childhood experience to explain how important good vegetable and fruit field workers are.  I’ll share a section with you.

When I was growing up…

In the Pacific Northwest, hundreds of kids from the suburbs were sent to the valleys to pick berries. One summer, my brother, two cousins, and I were among the unfortunate to learn lessons, gain skills, and save our parents some babysitting money. We were 10, 11, and 8 year old kids, too young to be left alone all day. You see our parents were from the mid-west.  In the early 60’s they, like thousands of others, left their childhood farm homes right out of high school to move to Seattle for good jobs and a new life.  As small business owners, they sold the idea of berry picking to us as an “easy way” to earn pocket money for the summer—but it was a trick.  We heard it in their voices.  When we fought and push came to shove, finally, the truth came out, “We want you to learn good work ethics like we did milking cows before school! It’ll be good for you!”  Our parents have lost their minds. Come this Tuesday in a warm 1978 June, my brother, two cousins and I were being bussed to hell.

Before sunrise, the grownups put us on a bus that conveniently picks kids up at the local school. We each have a sack lunch with our names written on it with a thick black sharpie. The oldest has two dollars in quarters in his pocket in case of trouble.  We are completely unprepared.

The story ends when we are fired from picking strawberries and run into town to buy popsicles.  Suburbanites transferring from an agricultural lifestyle into the true consumers that they were born to be.  Our parents raised us in the sidewalked communities, not the dirt clodden American farmland.  What did they expect?

Here is my mood expressed by meme.  I’m seeing more and more folks meeting up outside this month.  Take care -Shannon

Published by Shannon Laws

Like my writing? Want to hear me read my poetry? Please visit https://chickadeeproductions.bandcamp.com/releases and download some today. Only $1.00 a poem! Shannon Laws is a Pacific Northwest poet. Her story-telling poetry has touched many hearts and minds. She is the author of four poetry books, the most recent “Fallen” published by Independent Writer’s Studio Press. Shannon has received two Mayor’s Arts Awards and the Community Champion Award for promoting local artists on community radio and encouraging peace and understanding through community poetry events. She makes her home in Bellingham, Washington, USA.

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