Crickets, Cockleburs, Indian Summer, Squaw bread, Chokecherry Jelly and Nectar
The cockleburs are coming along nicely, but I am still searching for
some colored corn. It used to be called Indian corn, but someone told me we
can't say that anymore. I think that's a shame. It is Indian corn, isn't it? By
the same
token, why was it called Indian corn?
And, I was raised on squaw bread. We love squaw bread at our house and as
soon as it gets cool enough, we will start having it again. Now, I
understand we have to call it Indian fry bread, but if we can say Indian fry
bread, why can't we say Indian corn? I admire the spirituality and sense
of respect Indians have for their elders and I love the beautiful corn and the
fried bread, especially with honey butter. Down south we ate fried bread
with frijoles (red beans) with lettuce, tomatoes, onions and cheddar cheese.
Us South Dakotans have the right idea ... we eat it (squaw bread) dripping in
butter and jelly ... chokecherry comes to mind. And what about Indian summers?
Wonderful a time of the year.
Remember nectar? Did you just sense tasting it? Grandpa Stallman, the local
Rawleigh man from Reliance, kept us well-stocked with all flavors of nectar.
What a wonderful treat on a hot summer day. Maybe treats seemed to be so much
better way back then because treats were rationed. Nectar wasn't in the fridge
for easy access 24 hours a
day like pop is nowadays. By golly, when we got a glass of nectar, we relished
every drop and made it last
as long as we could. Might not get another glass for a day or two. Today, after
the grandchildren have been over, half-full bottles of a variety of drinks are
left behind to fizzle out and be poured down the drain.
I saw in the grocery store the other day you can now buy a little four-ounce can of pop. What a wonderful concept; but what is the cost of such a little can? I'll look next time I go in. Bet it's the equivalent of an eight-ouncer ...
So, what do you do if, say, you're walking along and up jumps a cricket just
as you put your foot down and your shoe makes this crease (right at the inside
of the instep) and the cricket jumps up then disappears? Where could he have
gone??? Right. Not a pretty sight is it? Wasn't a real pleasant experience for
this shoe-wearer, either. How fast CAN a fat lady get a shoe off!?! Pretty
darned, I say. On the brighter side, I have recovered...he won't.
I wonder if this stuff comes from having used fen phen?