Chatter digging in the dirt in Pap’s big garden
A few months back Judy left this comment:
“When I was a child, and one of us fell and got a mouth full of dirt, my mother would say, “don’t worry, you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die. We would sometimes say the same thing when we ate a bit of sour grass, or sucked on a honeysuckle blossom. We are part of the dirt, and the dirt is part of us.”
When I read Judy’s comment I immediately thought of Granny because she uses the measurement peck all the time. But the comment also made the filing cabinets in my mind make some noise. I’m sure I’ve heard someone say the same thing about everyone eating a peck of dirt before they die but I can’t remember who said it nor when.
Since Judy first left the comment at least three other people have mentioned the saying about dirt to me.
I’ve no doubt that my girls ate at least a peck of dirt when they were little if not more. One of their favorite things to do was to play in the dirt and mud. I can’t say they had much of a choice since I encouraged them by frequently giving them a five gallon bucket of water and plenty of places to dig for their mudpie creations.
I’m sure I ate a peck too.
I loved to play in the dirt and mud as much as the girls did.
At the old Martins Creek School there was an area under several huge pine trees that us kids played in. The roots were huge and many of them were out of the ground. We dug around them and called the area the Chocolate Factory.
One of my cousins and I used to look for any mudhole we could find. We’d play in the mudhole it if was wet and gommy and we’d play in it if it was drying up with cracks throughout it. We called those cracks Donald Duck cracks. I have no memory of why. But to this day if I see them in a dried up mudhole I have the urge to pry those Donald Duck pieces out.
Since making a garden is one of my favorite things in life I guess I never really grew out of my childhood love of digging in the dirt.
Last night’s video: Slip Off With Me to the Mountains.
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I am 94 + , born in 1930, Hamilton, Canada, because I ate more than my PECK OF DIRT, I am still here -the Question is why.
We ate the farmers carrots, fruit, and vegetables right out of the ground, or off the trees except for wiping them on my pants [ taking most of the dirt off] – Any bug on, or in the carrot etc. was part of lunch – my body would attack these BUGS without me knowing, – I might get a cold or virus or really sick, and ,or became immune to that bug.- now called A VIRUS.
I got all the usual measles, mumps, chicken pocks, along with every other kid on the street, c/w with a week off school for all the other kids would get the same bug, – after getting these BUGS and getting over them, – 90% of the time my body was now immune to them for the rest of my life
If you keep your body is so clean, then your body will not be get to eating your – PECK OF DIRT, — and your body will have to FIGHT OFF EVERY NEW BUG that come along.
They say the latest COV19 virus is similiar to MEASLES, – I had that bug, and got immune to in 1940.
Remember having a barbeque , and the hot dog fell off fire onto the ground , wiping the dirt off, and putting it back on the fire, is very similiar to EATTING YOUR PECK OF DIRT.
Your body, all your life, has to create your own immune system, sometimes your body will win and sometimes it will lose,
I do eat my PECK OF DIRT, and even today, within reason, feel ” cleanliness only can go so far “
When I hear the word peck, I think of Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. Thought I’d share my thoughts.
We loved playing in the dirt when we were kids. Getting it in our mouth was par for the course. A peck is I believe a quarter of a bushel. That’s a lot of dirt, but I can see me over the course of time eating that much considering all the mud pies we just had to taste and the dirt fights we got into. Today our grand kids will go to the garden, yank out a carrot or some other vegetable they have a hankering for, then proceed to eat it on the spot without the benefit of even a quick wash with a garden hose. One grandson makes this a daily habit. It doesn’t matter one bit how much we insist the veggies need to be washed before he eats them. Sometimes I am tempted to say what I heard the older folks say when we were kids. “God made dirt, and dirt won’t hurt.” Since dirt (earth) is where minerals our bodies need are found, maybe we had need of every bit of the peck we ate.
I’ve heard that but instead of the word “peck”, it was just “a lot of”…one does indeed “eat a lot of dirt before they die”. Most folks just don’t know they have…lol
Today’s topic reminds me to ask a question I’ve had for awhile.
Tipper, you often show us that you wash your garden vegetables at the kitchen sink. I’ve wondered why Matt hasn’t set up a washing station for you outside so that the dirt can be washed off without going into the septic system or sewer. We always had a place to wash garden veg outside.
I’m sure I’ve had at least a peck of dirt through my digestive system in these 8+ decades.
Blessings to all . . .
Robert-since neither of us grew up with an outdoor wash station neither of us has never even thought about one 🙂
I just read this the other day and it has a connection with your post.
PSA146:04 His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; ….
The use of “his” gave me something to ponder.
Most of what we eat comes from dirt unless we can afford hydroponically grown vegetables. Eggs milk, cheese and meat come from an animal that eats things grown in dirt. So if “you are what you eat” is true, I am 175 lbs. of dirt.
Some people live in dirt houses and eat their dirt food off dirt plates. Bricks and porcelain are made of clay. Earthenware and stoneware both have their beginnings as clay. Ceramic starts out as clay.
I ate dirt as a kid until I found a hair in it! Yuk! No more dirt for me!
I’m sure I ate a lot of dirt in my day & I know my daughter did. Not many people probably remember Euell Gibbons (an outdoorsman and early health food advocate) but he ate just about every thing. Our daughter ate some tree bark one day when she was small & I told my husband that “if it’s good enough for Euell, than it’s good enough for her”.
Continued prayers for Miss Cindy & the whole family!
When I was a kid we were told that you (everyone in their lifetime) eats a hand full of dirt before you die!
My friend made her granddaughter a “mud kitchen” off her back deck, so she can make mess and mud pies to her hearts content. I thought that was such a great idea and would have LOVED it as a kid. I adored making ‘concoctions’ out of mud, leaves, grass, etc.
I laughed out loud when I saw the subject today. My grandmother said “you have to eat a peck of dirt before you die”. I always laughed and agreed but told her I didn’t plan to eat it all at one setting.
Thanks for sparking such great memories.
I remember reading a short story in school entitled “Antaeus”. In mythology, Antaeus could not be defeated as long as he was in contact with the earth. In the short story, a boy, T.J., from Alabama had moved to a northern city with his family. Missing being able to farm, he and a group of boys he befriended hauled dirt onto the roof of a factory beside their building. After getting grass to grow and making plans to plant watermelons, they were discovered by the factory owner. He ordered his men to shovel it all off the next day. T.J. and the other boys threw it over themselves. T.J. then walked away. Two weeks later, he was found in Nashville, walking south toward Alabama. A very poignant story, highlighting the connection those who grew up on the land have with the land that nurtured them.
Your stories make me think of all the mud pies I made. We would pick wild onions and break them up like they were green beans. We had a lot of fun making pies and cakes out of mud.
I’ve never heard the saying eat a peck of dirt but showing love for each other by saying “a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.” I still say it to my great grands.
I don’t make mud pies anymore, but I do my fair share of playing in dirt especially this time of year.
Thank you Tipper so much for reminding me of my childhood memories.
I know your plate is full and running over, so I’m sending prayers for strength to you and especially Miss Cindy. God Bless!
Oh gosh ain’t no telling how much dirt and everything else I ate as a child. One of my earliest memories is of stealing mama’s mop bucket while she was busy mopping in another room and when she found me I had poured a good bit of it on a patch of bare ground and was whipping up a batch of mud pies! My best friend growing up lived right next door and we would always be daring each other to eat various bugs, dirt, grass, weeds, flowers…it’s a wonder we didn’t get sick as a dog off some of those things but I don’t remember ever backing out of a dare or especially a double dog dare. I guess it made for strong immune systems haha
When I was growing up, we played outside from the time we got up until it was dark. I can not ever remember coming in for lunch. I’m sure we ate something between breakfast and supper or maybe the mud pies held us over till the next meal. Mom used to tell us we had to wash our rusty feet and hands, she never said we were dirty, just rusty. My friend and neighbor sought medical help for her craving of dirt when it rained. She would go out to the garden and get a cupful to eat. She was never underweight but her eyes and skin had the appearance of a person lacking food and vitamins. I don’t remember if she was diagnosed with any health issues during that time of odd cravings.
Cousins making mud pies, O yes we did, and we were perfectly safe in our little town to have excursions to parks just a few blocks from our house. From ages 7 on up to 12 and 13, there was little spaces of forest on the outskirts of town where we loved to investigate in the spring of the year and forge down to a little creek. I remember singing that song “A Bushel and a Peck and a hug around the neck,” just days before my husband passed.
My Mother and Daddy slipped off to get married too. Their parents were upset with them at first but each set loved and thought the world of their new son or daughter.
Tipper, you have the best slipping off place – it is beautiful!!
My Mother, who was a born mountain woman, used to say “When you are digging in the dirt, you are next to God”. When she moved to the piedmont to work in the mills, she always had a garden, large or small, depending upon where she lived. I have inherited her love for “digging in the dirt”.
I didn’t like getting dirty as a child, but my brother loved the mud and dirt. Mama used to tell my girls she loved them a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck.
A peck is a dry measurement equal to 2 gallons.
My husband works in construction and when our son was probably 8 or so, my husband got an excess load of topsoil dumped in our back yard. My son & his cousin had the best time climbing and sliding on it. The hose was near & they would wet it down to land in the mud at the bottom. We would hose them off when they quit playing. My brother-in-law was learning construction & my husband let him spread out the dirt pile for practice. I’m not sure our 37 yr. old son has forgiven his uncle or his dad till this day. I think of yall every day and pray Miss Cindy is without pain or fear.
My brothers and I used to go down to the creek and build dams to make splash pools. We were muddy, we slipped, we had mud fights and came home with our own mud masks. Nowadays folks go to spas for their expensive mud masks. They just need to find themselves a creek.
I know I’ve eaten my fair of dirt myself and I reckon I’m proud of it!!! The most fun kids have is in dirt and and for all the toys, etc. they would rather have dirt to play in. It’s natural- just like children and gardens and kindness. I have heard “if a baby doesn’t fall and bust its head, it won’t be normal.” I’ve heard “God made dirt and dirt won’t hurt!” You people are keeping it real here ant the Blind Pig and I love the lack of pretense where we can let our inner hillbilly hang right out!!! Let’s go get in some dirt today! In the Army , they highly believe in dirt. It’s where you live and go bathless for long periods of time in good old dirt with dirt in your teeth and hair even! That’s my plug for dirt and the Army. Prayers, blessings and lovingkindness to you all, especially Miss Cindy and Granny who are National Treasures.
Gommy? Sure rings a bell with me. When toys are piled up I say they are all glommed up. When one of the kids was a little ornery I’d say, Don’t get all glommered up. I have added an ‘L’ in my version but have no idea where I heard it before and assumed I made it up. For some reason it fits certain situations perfectly. Do you have any ideas?
Mary-we’ve always used gom, gommed, and gommey to mean messy 🙂 I’ve never heard the addition of the L but seems like I have read it 🙂
My grandmother always used gom. Haven’t heard that is a long time.
I’ve heard those terms all my life. I just assumed it was our accent and the real word was grime, or grimmey….
Tipper, I’m so thankful for whatever causes the filing cabinets in your mind to make noise, and that you share it with us. When I was a kid, my cousins and I stayed at Mamaw and Papaw’s all summer and played in the dirt, in sand if we could find it, and in sawdust. Well, 2 of us did. The oldest didn’t like to get her feet dirty and she never even went barefoot. She always got to bathe first (in our one tub of water) because the bath water looked like chocolate milk when her sister & I got out of it.)
My grandparents lived in the “country” In Kingston, TN and we kids lived in Chattanooga- the “city”. There was so much to explore! There was an area of dried, cracked mud like you described though we never were there when it was wet and gummy. To me, it looked like where dinosaurs had been! I’d feel so excited and a bit scared looking at what I imagined were footprints. But now that you’ve mentioned it, I can imagine them as Donald Duck’s feet, too.
Melanie, my aunt by marriage was born and raised near the cemetery and within sight of the bottom of the Incline Railroad. She and my uncle lived right off East Brainard Street. I am not sure if I spelled it correctly. I always loved to visit them.
Randy, I live off East Brainerd Rd. now. That cemetery at the foot of Lookout Mountain is beautiful and so historic. It’s called Forest Hills. This is still a pretty good place to live and raise a family.
So many memories. Who didn’t love to make mud pies. Mama has pictures of the 4 of us in nothing but our pantys having a great time in the mud.
And sucking on honeysuckle or going to market with daddy and getting sugar cane to suck on. The things that my grandchildren have missed.
Have a wonderful day and prayers and thoughts for your beautiful family.
Sometimes “spell check” is an aggravating technology; my next to last line shud read: “fore bedtime” and the last line “another”!
Played in a zillion mud holes and an equal amount of Eastern Kentucky red clay banks as a young’un; most likely ate my “peck of dirt” and then some during our many hours of pushing a pocket sized matchbox and a notched thread spool ( a car and tractor, respectively) through roads we cut in that red clay bank! All in all, it was a fond remembrance cause jus’ before supper we were sent to the creek with a bar of red lifebouy soap to wash up fire bedtime. A fun time ending a mother fun time ….,,,,
I too heard it all the time. playing in the mud was a favorite pass time when I was little. I can remember getting hosed off outside before being brought in for a bath. I am sure I ate my share
God bless you friends, prepare to meet Jesus soon! are you ready?
We used to sing that song as mentioned in the comment above. I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck too. We played in the mud too. We also played mumbley peg which, if you were not skilled with getting your knife to stick in the ground, you’d wind up with a mouth full of dirt. The garden hose wash off, which was sometimes a whole body thing, was the last act before going into the house. let me tell you, the well water was COLD! Clover flower was also a sweet treat. Thanks for helping me remember those wonderful days!
I’ve always loved playing in the dirt or mud too. I’m reminded of Genesis 3:19 “from dust you came and to dust you will return.” We have a lot more in common with dirt than we might think.
Eating a peck of dirt was definitely a saying when I was growing up. Think I’ve had my peck. Another way peck was used on our house was to describe how much we loved each other. “A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck”
Still praying for Miss Cindy.
I never heard the expression eat a peck of dirt but often use the word “peck” instead of a saying a lot. I expect it might be closer to a bushel for me. My wife’s family would often say “seven eleven “ as a way of meaning a lot or a measure of some things. I love playing in mud holes with my bare feet when growing up even though I was told it would make my toes spread out. When I was about 12 years old, I was fishing with my daddy at a pay catfish lake, when him and a large black lady grabbed one another and went to hugging and laughing. Her family and his had worked together sharecropping for the same land owner when he was a young boy. She ask him if he remembered asking her after she had told him about making his toes spread out when he was playing in the mud, “what happen to you, did you set down in the mud in a mud hole”. I also remember him apologizing and telling her he was sorry and she telling him she had just thought it was funny.