maters

My dad called tomatoes, "maters".  When we were camping he would would put a dutch oven on the hot coals of the camp fire, pour in water and cut up some potatoes and then add the "maters".  Then in would go some onions, some carrots and then a slab of meat.
He called it his "taters, maters, wood and water stew".  One of the blogs I try (very poorly, I might add) to maintain is called "taters, maters, words and water"  I write it in honor of my dad.  I do not post enough on this blog but I have "captured" the name and and on days when I think about my dad or something about my life I try to write a poem and publish it on the blog.  I have no idea why I write poetry on a blog in honor of my father because I don't think he ever read a poem.  Also, we never discussed anything about education or reading.  In fact his favorite form of liturature was any book by Zane Grey.  I am sure he read every book that Zane Grey wrote.  Add to the Grey books those of Max Brand and Louis L'Amour and you will have a great idea of what was on his book shelf or rather in our house on the night stands, the coffee tables, the kitchen tables and the work bench in the garage.  The really great thing was that my mother also loved to read the western novels and since they were all over the house I also read them.  That still does not explain the poetry thing.  I have never written a poem about a horse or a cowboy hero.  I have no idea why I am comparing cowboy books and poetry.  Maybe one of the heroes or maybe one of the bad guys wrote poetry under the stars and it stuck somewhre in the back of my brain.  Maybe when I think about my parents I get mellow and writing poetry is a  way  to honor their memory.  So when ever I get a little mellow I will pen somes words to ease my mind.  Hopefully those words will have some meaning to someone other than me.