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Recent News... Just for Pope Gregory... |
2002-05-30 - 1:20 p.m. Pickles and blackberries I'm eating pickles and thinking about my grandmother. Mammy was from the hills of the Blue Ridge, oldest girl of eleven children. Never had more than an eighth grade education but was one of the wisest women I ever knewn. She let me take old bedspreads and boards and build a treehouse in her apple tree. Even rigged up a wire basket for hauling up lunch and other supplies. She also made the best sweet pickles on the planet. I hate dill pickles. All the cute pickle spears they serve a sandwich garnish go straight into the trash. No one makes a good sweet pickle. Vlasics are a poor substitute. Sweet relish is closer, but still not the real thing. She passed away when I was a teenager, but I still miss her. And her pickles. A big crock jar full of cucumber slices and brine, open to the air, with a plate on top to keep them submerged for, what was it? 12 days? 2 weeks? Mal would know. He's the local funeral home director and would talk to Mammy for hours about country cooking. Must call Mal. But Mom knows how to make her blackberry jelly. Every July was a climb through the brambles on the farm's hilltop. Nothing, let me tell you, nothing stains like blackberries. My favorite shirt was lost to blackberry tie-dye. (Do all nine year olds have some piece of clothing they love and try to wear every day?) I had my own little bucket, a Crisco can with electrical wire for a handle, for berry picking. It lived on the top shelf of my mom's coat closet for years. Now, I think my nephew, Ryan, uses the berry bucket my grandmother made me. He'll be two in July. Just when the blackberries are ripe. I'm in an excellent mood Today, I call my mom and wish her happy birthday and pretend to be upset her present hasn't arrived yet. Tomorrow, we surprise her and deliver her birthday present in person. Saturday, probably about the time my brother puts five pork loins on the grill, she might wonder what we're doing for dinner - the answer is about twenty or thirty people are coming over for a surprise retirement party. You see, tomorrow is my mom's last day of teaching. Decades as a second grade educator, and she'll be free. We got her a nice patio bench/glider, very comfortabe and durable, for her to rest between gardening, mowing and chasing her grandson. � � � 
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