Now growing up in the city, is so different from living in the country.  Now I live in the South, but the country was the Deep South of Georgia.  I grew up during the time of curfews, and severe racism.  But that did not stop my parents from getting on the highway with four kids in tow and traveling to Georgia on those dark country roads, and the going through the little towns that you see in horror movies.  But as old people would say, "God watches over babies and fools".  I do not think that you could put my pops in the fool's category; you see every time before we hit the road, we always prayed.  He would not think of getting on that highway without first having prayer.  It worked apparently, we never had an accident, and we saw many, and at almost 80 years of age, he still will get in his car and drive wherever he and my mom need to go.  So it goes without saying God answers prayer.  Now keep in mind in Georgia during that time racism was still very apparent. This did not seem to bother my parents, or my grandparents.  My parents never met a stranger, black, white or polka dot, nor did my grandfathers.  Those folks who lived down in Georgia, they were some of the most speakingest people I ever did see.  Back home, if we did not know you we did not speak to you, duh!  Not my parents, many times I would ask, "do you all know them"?  My dad would say, "No, but we will know each other next time".  Took me growing up and watching my parents to finally realize how true that it was.  You do not have to know a person in order to speak to them.  A wave and a smile are contagious!  If you have ever been south you will see and understand where I am coming from!   Now from a child's perspective, going to the country only meant work, and trying to impress your country cousins.  Both were accomplished.  Work was something we never were able to escape, but we also impressed our country cousins, mission accomplished.  Now we knew that when we went t o Georgia it was "pea pickin time".  Not a favorite time of mine.  How I hated having to go into those fields.  It was always so hot, knats, flies, snakes, spiders, and God only knows what else!   We had to wear overalls, boots and carry rags to wipe the sweat from our brow, and to top it off...a rag on our heads up under a straw hat, that Georgia sun could be brutal.  Now we did not grow up with a lot of money.  We would have been classified as poor; according to the standards back then.  But we were poor and happy!  I have seen the time when we did not know where our next meal would come, but it was always there.  As an adult, when I look back I appreciate all of those trips to the country, all of the hot days in the fields.  The old saying goes, "You don't know what you've got, until it is gone". 

What I would give for those days on the farm.  Children now days do not know what they are missing.  My pops use to say when we complained, "hard work will make hair grow on your chest", and I would say but daddy I am a girl, his reply would simply be, "Oh yea sorry", and he would not stop what he was doing.  It was a matter of fact thing for him.  Hard work never seems to bother him.  My mom would sit and look pretty, we had to work.  My pops would say, "Your mom has worked all year this is her vacation time, and time to spend with her mom, now be quite and keep working".  I realize now, he was spoiling her; she was his queen, "Honey & Bee".  Growing up country was fun, tiring, and sometimes scary.  Would not trade those times for anything in this world.  You choose, growing up Country or Growing up City, I chose Country.