Thursday, April 28, 2011

Thirsty



I am 8 or 9 years old. We are living in Germany in a small village of about 300 people. Mainly farmers. Today the class outing is ‘potato beetle picking’. We trott off to a farmer’s potato field. I don’t remember what those bugs look like nor their size but I do remember that they are easy to find sitting on the plants and chewing away at the leaves. The teacher assigned a potato row to each of us. We bend down, move forward, inspect each plant and pick the bugs off and throw them into a bucket that we are carrying. I love doing it. Beats sitting in a hot classroom. This was an early afternoon outing. The sun at its hottest and beating down on us and my most vivid memory of this event is ‘hot and very thirsty’. Oooof, finally the job is done and we find ourselves near the farm house. I don’t remember seeing the farmer but I do remember this bucket of water. We all push and shove around it to get a share of the cooling drink.

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