All this talk about our Depression era parents and grandparents is jogging my memory. My thrifty grandmother could never stand to see anything go to waste. She proved that one very hot summer day. Our neighbor to the north, Kersey Benefield, would always stop very early in the morning on his way to town with a load of watermelons to pick up the shopping list my grandmother clothes-pinned to the front screen door. He never failed to leave a fresh watermelon on the porch for us, two or three if my cousins were visiting. On his way home, he would stop with Grandma's groceries and visit awhile.
It had been a hot summer with less rain than usual. Now, watermelons require a lot of water to grow nice and plump. Kersey had a very good well, but even with that, the melons were smaller than usual, though very sweet and tasty. One morning, Kersey returned with a full load of melons in the back of his truck. He was hopping mad. The grocers had all told him the melons were too small, and he was just going to have to throw them all away.
My grandmother told him to dump them in the yard. She would make watermelon preserves. She sent Kersey back to town for sugar and lemons, and then she put us (my cousins, my sister, my brother and I) to work cutting up watermelon rinds. We soon had several tubs full, plus all the watermelon hearts we could eat. I don't think we ate anything else that day but watermelons, and maybe not the next day either. I still remember how extra sweet they were.
Grandma sent us to all the neighbors with jars of watermelon preserves. All winter we had preserves with our breakfast, our lunch, and our supper. I would give anything to have her recipe.
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