My lazy days of summer were spent on the family’s farm hiding from my sisters in the old log corn crib.  After lunch (or as my grandmother called it dinner, we had supper in the evening) in the heat of the day, we went down to the old log spring house with a sharp knife in one hand and a salt shaker in the other to “fetch” the watermelon which was placed there the day before.  I knew how cold it was going to be coming out of the spring water that was bubbling up from the ground.  I couldn’t wait to cut into it under the maple tree and take that first bite of the sweet red meat.  I would get so messy and sticky from the juice which of course required me to go jump in the creek to wash off.  To tell the truth, the mess was made by design so I could go swimming... Click here for the full story.