Yep! I bet people are offended. It doesn’t take much!
Jefferson
No dummy. It would be racist if they were all black and therefore fit the racial sterotype that you are well aware of being perputrated by white racist, yet you coyly suggest it fits for whites? We see through your robe, honey child.
Things haven’t changed much. “Git outside with that watermelon!”
LaRue Foster
Rather than look for black specks, my grandmother taught me to thump the rind of a watermelon. If the sound was hollow, the melon was ripe. For cantaloupe, I was taught to sniff the spot where the vine had been attached. If I could smell the cantaloupe, it was ripe. I don’t know where these methods originated. My grandmother was born in 1879 in Mississippi, so maybe it’s an old Southern custom. However, I’ve never gotten an unripe fruit using these “tests” for ripeness.
My granddaddy would not let us eat watermelon until after the Fourth of July! He said it was not good until then. Of course they were all local Alabama watermelons back then!
We were treated to our first one on the Fourth of July! Dad closely inspected them daily! We watched him and he always seemed to know just the right ones (it took more than one as there were seven children, plus mom n dad) to pick for that special occasion!
By the sound of the “ThumP.” If it was mashed and you heard a cracking type sound you would know that it was ripe but the heart of the melon would be split.
Loved summertime, playing all day & eating watermelon under Papaw’s shade tree on the concrete picnic table with cousins!!! What a blessing! Herbert Campbell Marsha BurlesonBeverly BurlesonLisa Lisa Krout Grossheim
Times were tougher then than now, but the water melons were sweeter. Most people who were poor didn’t know it because there weren’t many “do-gooders” around to tell them they were poor.
Thats exactly what my late father said. They did not know they were poor because everyone else was the same. He grew up in a similar house to the picture. Ran around in overalls and bare feet.
That’s exactly what my mama and her sisters and brother said. They grew up in a house that was similar… Actually multiple houses because they didn’t own any place they lived and had to move around. But they did not know they were poor. They said they never thought about it a single time. As long as they had a field to plow and food to grow and meat to shoot, they were happy
Being poor often has little to do with the clothes you wear or house you live in. I know people who live in mansions with servants who lack integrity, gratitude, empathy, and are quick to judge others. That is true poverty in my humble opinion. I was reminded of similar scenes from my childhood but we were not fortunate enough to have nice clothes like these kiddos or to always have haircuts when we needed. We were rich in integrity, gratitude, humility and empathy and had strong moral values.
I don’t think only poor people eat watermelon but, I grew up poor and I ate it every time I got a chance. Most people don’t feel like they have to find something wrong with every post! Those children are just enjoying watermelon.
We weren’t the richest in town and we weren’t the poorest but there wasn’t anything better than an ice cold watermelon on a hot summer day!
Doug jones
My dad and uncles were born in Arab in the 20s and moved to Virginia with some of their friends to work on a large farm just before ww 2, they all married local girls in va. and their families are still in Va. Every one of them could grow the best watermelons you have ever eaten !!!!!, they always said they learned how to raise them in Alabama !!!
When I was young we would find them in the field and bust them with a rock and eat them with our hands. We would be sticky and covered with dust when we got home. Them was good watermelons.
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Is that racist ? Bunch of white kids on a front porch eatin’ watermelon? Just sayin.
Yep! I bet people are offended. It doesn’t take much!
No dummy. It would be racist if they were all black and therefore fit the racial sterotype that you are well aware of being perputrated by white racist, yet you coyly suggest it fits for whites? We see through your robe, honey child.
well, Sara McFerrin, Author – this could have helped you the other day with your Walmart watermelon!
Things haven’t changed much. “Git outside with that watermelon!”
Rather than look for black specks, my grandmother taught me to thump the rind of a watermelon. If the sound was hollow, the melon was ripe. For cantaloupe, I was taught to sniff the spot where the vine had been attached. If I could smell the cantaloupe, it was ripe. I don’t know where these methods originated. My grandmother was born in 1879 in Mississippi, so maybe it’s an old Southern custom. However, I’ve never gotten an unripe fruit using these “tests” for ripeness.
My granddaddy would not let us eat watermelon until after the Fourth of July! He said it was not good until then. Of course they were all local Alabama watermelons back then!
Yep! No eating until after the 4th.
Did they keep them on the vine until the 4th?
My grandfather kept them on vine ’til after 4th. Oh, they were so-o-o-o-o good!!
No watermelon until after the 4th of July that’s what momma said too
Why does racism have appear in every thing! Good Lord!
We were treated to our first one on the Fourth of July! Dad closely inspected them daily! We watched him and he always seemed to know just the right ones (it took more than one as there were seven children, plus mom n dad) to pick for that special occasion!
Dorothy Toney
By the sound of the “ThumP.” If it was mashed and you heard a cracking type sound you would know that it was ripe but the heart of the melon would be split.
Becky Rainey
Thanks Steven Norris!!! Lol
My Granny would always check the colouring and thump that sucker.
Reminds me of my childhood with my brother and cousins. Back in the early 40 s.
Jacob Alexander
Loved summertime, playing all day & eating watermelon under Papaw’s shade tree on the concrete picnic table with cousins!!! What a blessing! Herbert Campbell Marsha BurlesonBeverly BurlesonLisa Lisa Krout Grossheim
Their wasn’t nothing any better when we were kids!
Pam Nelson Steve Parker
Times were tougher then than now, but the water melons were sweeter. Most people who were poor didn’t know it because there weren’t many “do-gooders” around to tell them they were poor.
Thats exactly what my late father said. They did not know they were poor because everyone else was the same. He grew up in a similar house to the picture. Ran around in overalls and bare feet.
That’s exactly what my mama and her sisters and brother said. They grew up in a house that was similar… Actually multiple houses because they didn’t own any place they lived and had to move around. But they did not know they were poor. They said they never thought about it a single time. As long as they had a field to plow and food to grow and meat to shoot, they were happy
Being poor often has little to do with the clothes you wear or house you live in. I know people who live in mansions with servants who lack integrity, gratitude, empathy, and are quick to judge others. That is true poverty in my humble opinion. I was reminded of similar scenes from my childhood but we were not fortunate enough to have nice clothes like these kiddos or to always have haircuts when we needed. We were rich in integrity, gratitude, humility and empathy and had strong moral values.
I don’t think only poor people eat watermelon but, I grew up poor and I ate it every time I got a chance. Most people don’t feel like they have to find something wrong with every post! Those children are just enjoying watermelon.
Huh? Why would you say that?
Why would you make that statement. Rich or poor we all grew up on watermelons.
We weren’t the richest in town and we weren’t the poorest but there wasn’t anything better than an ice cold watermelon on a hot summer day!
My dad and uncles were born in Arab in the 20s and moved to Virginia with some of their friends to work on a large farm just before ww 2, they all married local girls in va. and their families are still in Va. Every one of them could grow the best watermelons you have ever eaten !!!!!, they always said they learned how to raise them in Alabama !!!
When I was young we would find them in the field and bust them with a rock and eat them with our hands. We would be sticky and covered with dust when we got home. Them was good watermelons.
and it did not hurt a one of us.