Sunday, January 13, 2008

The Last of the Cottonfields

Growing up in southern Chandler I didn't give much thought to how great I had it. I'm sure I even complained at times. My family moved to a 2.3 acre property before I entered the fifth grade. The reason: Horses; my sister and I were hopelessly addicted to horses. We raced them barebacked around our yard, weaving in and out of the trees sometimes forgetting to duck before the low-hanging branches knocked into us, well, at least me.

We made obstacle courses, and jumping courses in the arena, made up games and pretended to be in the Olympics. We jumped ditches, waded in irrigation water, and caught snakes. We used to have a Christmas tradition of going on a family trail ride. We went trail riding often, but only occasionally were we all out at the same time. We even took the dog. Horses and riders set out from our house down the dirt road, past a paved Cooper Road and onto the narrow farm lanes. Surrounded by corn, alfalfa, or cotton fields we spent hours; we rode for miles and miles.

Today those fields are full of stucco covered houses. I am told the house I grew up in has been bulldozed to make way for another. I have not gone by to see for myself.

Faced with the recent issue of 'Where to Live?', I have given considerable thought to the question 'Where do I want my children to grow up?' and 'What kind of life do I want for them?'. I would love for them to have the kind of childhood that I had. Kevin has similar stories from his youth: Irrigation football, jumping tumbleweeds, etc. I don't think he would object to my desire for a rural life, although I fear that ideal is quickly becoming impossible.

For good or ill Kevin and I pourchased a house in eastern Queen Creek (a thirty-five minute drive from Kevin's Dad's house). We thought this might be far enough out.

There will be a Fry's Marketplace opening soon not 5 minutes down the road. The Super Target and Walmart (as well as an assortment of duplicate retail chains) opening in the Spring is less than fifteen minutes from our rural oasis.

The point of this blog: The first week of my visit this December, I was elated to find a cottonfield with the cotton ready for harvest out in Queen Creek. I nearly yelled the word 'cottonfield' as I drove past with Bremen in the back seat. Duely impressed by whatever would make his "Mama" so happy, the next time (and many times after) we drove past the fireld, Bremen yelled "cottonfield". We now have an expert Cottonfield Identifier on our hands.

I forced Kevin to pull over (as I often do) so I could photograph the cotton. He and Bremen ran around as I snapped the soul of the field into the black box I held. I stood and turned as I heard Kevin say to our son "Ask Mama?" Bremen came up to me and asked, "Mama, what does cotton taste like?"

At least he knows food doesn't come from the supermarket.

8 comments:

ducklips said...

Marcy, you are going to make me cry. Last month Reuben (Meg's husband) came home w/ two rogue cotton plants he found growing on the side of the road on the way home from Thatcher. My darling little Antoinette was so amazed by these plants. She took a bulb that hadn't blossomed yet and kept it. Now it has actually blossomed and is sitting in her bedroom ready to take for show and tell.
Weird that a plant can have a special place in someone's heart. Cotton does for me.

Teresa said...

I am in agreement with you. I miss the way things were. Recent transplants to Arizona don't understand that just 10 years ago, the landscape was vastly different. I remember my parents letting us run free to play outside all day because we couldn't go far enough to find trouble. Kids today don't know how to create their own entertainment, the way we did. I worry about that with Jack.

Sheri said...

Ian and I discuss moving up North all the time. We'd love to live someplace where our children can run outside and play without worrying about someone taking them!

Kim said...

I agree. We had it pretty great growing up. I miss the cotton fields. Every time I pass another new housing development it makes me sick.

Kids should spend their free time running around outside, getting dirty, using their imaginations.

Emily said...

I don't have cotton fields anymore, since I moved to Page. I miss them. But I do have a neighborhood where my kids are relatively safe and can explore. I do worry sometimes that they might fall off that cliff that is down the road from our house just past the school. I didn't even realize you guys were back in the USA, much less Arizona. Welcome home!

Marcy said...

It's just temporary-our visit to the US. Kevin left this morning and Bremen and I will be going 'home' in Feb.

klundtacular said...

We didn't have cotton patches where I grew up and that town's still more the same than different (Madison, IN) but it's about the economy and Madison doesn't have that great of an economy. We did have tobacco-lots of it everywhere. We didn't have irrigation days either-too much natural rain. But we did play kickball, red rover, and volleyball in our little front yard. That could be fun when I was winning.

megan said...

True story... I was driving home one day and this is when there was still alfalfa growing in the fields by my house and there was a farmer walking through the field with a hoe over his shoulder and it totally made me cry because I missed the fields and farmers so much. It was such a random beautiful sight to me