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Posts Tagged With: harvest

Somebody giving back in

Growing up us girls would help as Mom and Aunt Irene packed for the field: Mason Jars of lemonade or iced tea, a pot of stew or chicken & dumplings wrapped in newspaper +a wool blanket before tucking all of it into a box in the trunk of the Oldsmobile. Nothing about this was disposable, Corelle traveled to the field, too.  Real silverware, coffee cups and cotton napkins.  As we’d head out,  our cars smelling of stew, fresh bread and pie, we’d wave to the men in the field.  As a child it was an adventure; for them, it was a lot of hard work and careful planning.

~ a typical scene from my childhood ~

Feeding and caring like this is an act of love and they did it well.

Combining under a Harvest Moon ~

Upon our arrival, the men would take their break and drive over to meet us, dust accompanying their arrival.  They’d wash their hands and splash their faces using water from the Igloo cooler then sit cross legged in the stubble as they dunked fresh buns into steaming bowls of soup, stew or chili.   Conversations ensued about what was done, what was left and what was coming next. Before long they’d stand and into their bowls would land a slab of pie or a piece of cake or maybe both.  Leaning against the trucks’ end gate they’d savor dessert and coffee before handing back the bowls, giving thanks for the meal, and heading back to work.

an Emjayandthem(C) Flapper pie

We’d pack up and, with a farm dog in tow, head back to the house to plan for the next round.

Family in the field – from L-R : Grandpa, Uncle Harley, Dad and Uncle Jarl ~ An Emjayandthem (C) Photo

Thanks for the meal, here’s a song that is real, from the kid from the city to you ~ and Cheers to the unsung heroines of the Prairie ~ the women who made the breaks wonderful.

Dusty old farmer out working your fields
Hanging down over your tractor wheels
The sun beatin’ down turns the red pain to orange
And rusty old patches of steel
There’s no farmer songs on that car radio
Just cowboys, truck drivers and pain
Well this is my way to say thanks for the meal
And I hope there’s no shortage of rain
Straw hats and old dirty hankies
Moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal here’s a song that is real
From a kid from the city to you
The combines gang up, take most of the bread
Things just ain’t like they used to be
Though your kids are out after the American dream
And they’re workin in big factories
Now If I come on by, when you’re out in the sun
Can I wave at you just like a friend
These days when everyone’s taking so much
There’s somebody giving back in
Straw hats and old dirty hankies
Moppin’ a face like a shoe
Thanks for the meal here’s a song that is real
From a kid from the city to you
Songwriters: Murray Mclaughlan
Have you ever had a meal in a field?  
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Categories: Faith, Family, Food, Home, Life, Men, News, Personal, Seasons, Women, Work | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Random 5 for Labor Day – Ice Cream, escape artists, Apple Season and days off

Random 5 for Labor day ~ here we go!

1 ) Years ago my cousin had a summer job at an ice-cream parlor. I spent the night with her to help eat at the shoppe.  We made up every concoction possible, ate gobs of ice cream, butterscotch, hot fudge, nuts and whipped cream.  I recently realized that I don’t crave ice cream ~ pretty sure that gluttonous memory is why.

hard decisions of our childhood

Remember?

2 )  Labor Day.  The end of summer as we know it ~ and leaves here are already turning.   But wait – here’s the BEST news – Honey-Crisp apples are nearly ready!!  Oh the joy cannot be contained!  You can still buy some of last year’s apples for $5.00/lb — but soon the orchards near me will sell FRESH apples (bumper Michigan crop this year!) -I can get a dozen for ~$7.00 and youngest boy and I will gobble them down like iced cream!

cropped-apples.jpg

3 ) Speaking of youngest boy, he has a  girlfriend and the girlfriend has a dog named Morty.  I like her already. And isn’t that the greatest name?  Apparently Morty likes busting free from the confines of the kennel; the kid has since nicknamed him “The great Mordini.”  Ha ha ha.

puppy-basset-hound

who can resist? Not I.

4 )  I love Fall.  Apples. Leaves. Bright sunny days. Cool, crisp nights.   I. Love. Fall! ❤

pumpkins.jpg

 

5) Hubbs and I both took tomorrow off !  I’m planning on sleeping in followed by coffee & a lazy brunch then a massage and whatever else I feel like doing – or not !!  Whoo Hoo!

otter day off

No stress, no dress code!

 

What’s your Random 5 looking like today? Ever over-do it on a food you love?  What happened?  Are you seeing signs of Fall where you are?  What’s the last kind thing you did for yourself?   Happy Labor Day everyone!

 

 

Categories: Attitude, Confidence at any age, Determination, Family, Food, Friendship, Fun, Holidays, Joy, Life, Thoughts, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Just for the beauty of it

“I loved autumn, the one season of the year that God seemed to have put there just for the beauty of it.” ― Lee Maynard

*Please click on the pictures to see the full image and enjoy His artwork.

Autumn colors are arriving

Autumn colors are arriving

from a recent drive

from a recent drive

Just had to stop here and take in the view

Just had to stop here and take in the view

It’s Autumn here in Michigan.  Apples for sale. Cider.  Harvest in full swing. Sunny days with temps hot enough to peel off the layers; nights cool enough to pile them back on.

It’s Autumn.  And it’s my favorite.

Categories: Blogging, Faith, Family, Home, Quotes, Seasons, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , | 22 Comments

Making room for pie

one end of the pie table.

Harvest on the prairies. Dust blowin’, combines goin’, suppers in the field.

And I was there, back on the farm, the latter part of September.  It had been an early harvest for many in the community and this meant more smiles than sadness, more grins than complaints and more than enough pies, cakes and desserts at the annual Macrorie Fall supper. My hometown.    The supper is a fund-raiser, yes, but it’s more than that. It’s coffee with former bus drivers, it’s hugs from long-time neighbors; it’s fellowship.

See the two blueberry desserts out front?  See that carmelly looking meringue topped madness at 10:00?  That’s a sour cream/raisin pie, my Dad’s favorite, and I know it sounds dreadful .. but I assure you .. it’s not. It’s a combination of carmelly pecan-pie gooeyness peppered with raisins and sometimes nut meats.

The community supper  – a chance to share harvest’s bounty –  was scheduled to start at 5:00 Sunday.  By 4:20 no less than 200 senior citizens from a 40 miles radius were in their seats, forks in hand with their pre-selected pie at their seat.

For many elderly farmers, it was a the old favorites that won their hearts:  flapper pie, apple, and sour cream/raisin.  Ladies chose standards like pumpkin pie with real whipped cream, cherry delight or bread pudding with caramel sauce.  Me?  Pineapple upside down cake. Oh yeah.

In the midst of the communal enjoyment of roast turkey, dressing, turnips, mashed potatoes, garden peas & carrots, gravy, butter, salad and rolls, I witnessed behavior I hadn’t seen for a while: adults jockeying for position; nearly elbowing each other into line. Grown men gleefully discussing the merits of a good pie.

Someone nearby exclaimed, “Good Lord; it’s like they’ve never had food like this before.”

Oh they’ve had it all right.

They’ve had it at their Mother’s table some 60 years ago.

They’ve had it when their wife was still alive and did you know she loved to bake?  Baked a darned good pie that girl did. 

They’ve had it when they’ve been included in Thanksgiving plans and had the opportunity to take a few leftovers home with them.  And they’ll always choose pie.

It’s not the food itself that does it though; it’s that first taste of something you  haven’t had since grade school – that’s what does it. It’s that moment, that taste and smell that awakens the child in each of us. The child who longs for simpler times, for doughnuts at Grandma’s table and pie at the hockey rink. For coming in from a cold evening of freeze tag to the smells of cinnamon coffee cake.

We long for the taste of love, baked into each and every bite.

Thinking about it now, I don’t think I witnessed greed at all.  I saw wisdom in those pre-supper pie pickers.  They were experienced enough to go for the sweet stuff first and build their plate around it.  Why?  They knew there would probably be enough turkey and sides (sustenance), they’re farmers after all, but they’d learned, over the years, to not count on the sweet things in life (decent weather, fair prices and a good harvest).

Do you make room for the pie in your life?

The other end of the pie table ...

Categories: Attitude, Faith, Fun, Life, Opinion, Seasons, Thoughts, Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | 44 Comments

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