Mom said it was her fault I didn't like watermelon. She told me how she was craving watermelon when she was pregnant with me. It was late October in 1954 and Dad drove all over trying to find a watermelon in St Louis, Missouri. Finally he found one, much to Mom's delight. She cut it open immediately and began to eat. Something was wrong with it and she became very ill. Her conclusion was I didn't like watermelon because of that...an old wive's tale.
I never developed a love for this fruit/vegetable. I kept trying. I did love the watermelon seed spitting contests we had.
We grew our own watermelons. Some, for what ever reason, might begin to end rot in the field. As children part of our job was to find these melons and pick them for the pig and chickens to eat. Waste not, want not. We discovered that the heart, which was still good, is mighty tasty on a warm summer day. I remember busting a watermelon open in the field (a forbidden thing to happen with a good melon) and digging in with bare hands to reach the seedless portion. The memory of sweet watermelon juice running down my arms as we ate with no manners sitting in the dirt still makes me smile. This was the only time I enjoyed watermelon. That and when we sold them because we were allowed to keep part of that money.
Thanks, Ida, for bringing that memory to the surface.
My pencil sketch on cardboard does not eat much.