I grew up on a farm near Gilbert, Arizona...an experience I wouldn't trade for anything in the world! We grew cotton, among other crops. When I was about 8 years old, me dad began letting me ride on the tractors and equipment once in a while. I had to sit on the "floor" at the top of the steps (to climb onto the machine), and he always told me that if I started to fall, to JUMP out as far as I could! I saw all phases of growing cotton and went to the gin regularly. One day my cousins and I tried our hand at picking cotton by hand after the baler came through and people were picking by hand what was left on the stalks. My bag was longer than I was tall! At the end of quite a long afternoon, we turned in our bags and I had earned a whopping five cents! (I think they must have felt sorry for me and gave me something for my efforts although I probably didn't earn that much!!) A great life, but sadly, that farm land is now a development with large houses and lakes. Thank you for bringing wonderful memories by your photos! Debbie