NOT what we had for supper.
First, an illustration of the adage, Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. That means, “The more things change, the more they stay the same.”
I was almost late to church on Sunday because I had to stop and take a picture of this. Now, and at any time in my adult life, my first response to this is and would have been, “Kewl!” but my second response is and would have been, “There’s never a rube with a rifle around when you need one!” So much for the stay-the-same part. As for the change, time was I would have gone on to think, “Roast goose with oyster dressing…!” Now, I’m like, “Get away from the soybeans! You want to drive up the price of tofu?”
Anyway, it was a cool sight to see. One of the many perks of living at the back of beyond.
Now, pickles. Our cucumbers are finally starting to come in, and so it’s time to throw together some pickles. Charlie’s family likes sweet-and-sour refrigerator pickles, so I’ll make some of them, but Charlie and I like refrigerator dills, so I’m going to make some of them, too. My recipe for those comes from the Mirro All-Purpose Cookbook, Fourth Edition, Copyright 1954. This book was given to me by the eldest of my husband’s sisters, who was given it by my grandmother, who was her Sunday School teacher long before I was born. Small world, isn’t it?
Select cucumbers about 5 inches in length. Wash them well and cover with salted water. (1 cup salt to a gallon of water.)
Pour boiling water over cucumbers while preparing the following:
- 1/2 cup salt
- 2 cups vinegar
- 3 qts. water
Boil one minute.
Drain cucumbers, pack into clean, hot jars. Place dill and a bud of garlic in bottom of each jar.
Pour boiling hot mixture over cucumbers. Seal immediately.
After the jars cool, store them in the refrigerator. You can process them in a canner, but I don’t; I just keep them refrigerated. They keep for as long as needed before being opened. They usually don’t last long, anyway!
WRITING PROMPT: Have a character given something that came, by a circuitous route, from someone close.