When I was a kid, my parents would wax poetically about their summers spent picking strawberries and green beans earning 25 cents a day in California Central Valley. They loved it, apparently.
Good, honest work they told me. Then as I got older they demanded I attend college and get a white collar career established, lol.
When I was a kid, my parents would wax poetically about their summers spent picking strawberries and green beans earning 25 cents a day in California Central Valley. They loved it, apparently.
Good, honest work they told me. Then as I got older they demanded I attend college and get a white collar career established, lol.
Let me wax in: I picked cherries as a kid. Not for poetry, though, but to make some money for myself.