Perspective

Recently, writers have attempted to refresh old stories by changing up the perspective. Rewriting the Cinderella fairy tale from the perspective of the wicked step-mother, or having the Big Bad Wolf tell about the Three Little Pigs and Red Riding Hood is interesting as long as a child has already heard the original. Trisha Speed Shaskan has a cute idea, but she is far from the first to tell "the other side of the story."

Many years ago an author whose name has been lost to history, wrote a tongue-in-cheek rebuttal to Darwin's theory of evolution.

My dad owned a plaque with this poem when my brother and I were very young. He may have gotten it when he was in the Army in 1954. In 2010, someone who doesn't identify himself wrote a blog tribute to the poem and included excerpts from letters to Dear Abby wherein the writers claimed this person or that person actually wrote it. If I could find Dad's plaque, which may have been broken years ago, it might mention an author. Memory says it gives the credit to Anonymous. I know Someone Somewhere wrote it at least sixty-five years ago.
  
The Monkeys Disgrace

Three monkeys sat in a coconut tree
Discussing things as they're said to be.
Said one to another, "Now listen, you two,
There's a certain rumor that cannot be true,
That man descends from our noble race -
The very idea is a disgrace.

No monkey ever deserted his wife,
Starved her babies and ruined her life;
And you've never known a mother monk
To leave her babies with others to bunk,
Or pass them on from one to another
Til they scarcely know who is their mother.

And another thing you'll never see -
A monk build a fence around a coconut tree
And let the coconuts go to waste,
Forbidding all other monks to taste.
Why, if I put a fence around this tree,
Starvation would force you to steal from me.

Here's another thing a monk won't do -
Go out at night and get on a stew,
Or use a gun or club or knife
To take some other monkey's life;

Yes, Man Descended - That ornery cuss -
But, brother, he didn't descend from us!"
     - anonymous

reference:
http://lvtfan.typepad.com/lvtfans_blog/2010/02/the-monkeys-disgrace.html

Bachelorette Party

Not quite G-rated.

I've only been to one bachelorette party. It was a little disappointing. There weren't any Chippendale type guys with 6-pack abs dancing in bikini briefs. It was a tame party. Just a bunch of women drinking a little too much and trying to embarrass my niece Jessica, the bride to be.

Earlier in the day, I was invited to go with them to Spencer's to purchase gifts for the party, but I had already committed to a sight-seeing tour of the Smoky Mountains. I sent some money with a friend from the other side of the family and asked her to get edible underwear from me. Just in case you've never heard of edible panties, they are made out of multi-colored candy that look like Sweet Tarts and strung on elastic thread and then fashioned into a string bikini. 

I actually had a lovely gift for the bride, but hey, a person has to embrace the spirit of the party. That evening we gathered in one of the hotel rooms, and the fun began.  My mother probably wasn't having a good time at all. She appeared to be the only teetotaller present. She didn't 'party hearty.'

The bride, my brother's step-daughter, received a lot of sexy lingerie and finally opened the gift from me. We had put Mom's name on it as well. When Jessica realized the edible panties were from her step-father's sister and his MOTHER she thought it was just WRONG!

So I gave her the gift that had been planned for months.

"Here Darlin', this is your real present."

She had requested that I make her a quilt and it must have a lot of orange in honor of her alma mater, the University of Tennessee Volunteers. She allowed me a lot of leeway with the pattern, and I chose a speed piecing design. My mom paid for the fabric, and a professional quilted it.

Corn Cob Jelly

1976.     The American Bicentennial.     Patriotic Fervor.

Americans showed their patriotism by painting almost everything, including fire plugs, red, white and blue. The celebrations went on all year, peaked around the 4th of July and had waned by Thanksgiving.

At the Kansas State Fair, held annually in September at Hutchinson, an exhibit was set aside for pioneer themes. Statehood was achieved in 1861. I remember a lot of red, white and blue in quilts, art, cakes and even layered jars of jelly. Then I saw something I had never heard of:

CORN COB JELLY

� They're kidding, right?

Thank you, kind anonymous source for providing the ingredients with the display. I stood at the exhibit and jotted the recipe on the back of a book of checks.

Since we raised corn on our farm, harvest was at hand, I had plenty of jars, and the only other ingredients were sugar and pectin, I decided to try it.

In 1876 I expect folks burned corn cobs in the cook stove or heating stove. By 1976 they were nothing more than harvest residue. Between hauling truck loads of corn from the field to the elevator, I gathered nice looking ears, meaning they didn't have any bug damage, and hand shelled them. No scavenging harvested cobs off the ground for me.

This was the easiest, most fail-proof recipe I ever tried.
12 bright red cobs with the husks and corn kernels removed
6 pints water
*1 package powdered pectin  (Don't use liquid pectin.)
3 cups white, granulated sugar
**Red food coloring

Break the cobs into small pieces and boil for 40 minutes in a large kettle. I put an old plate over the top of the cobs to keep them in the water as they tend to float.  While the cobs are boiling, prepare your jars and lids. At the end of the 40 minutes, strain the water through cheesecloth and save 3 cups of liquid in a three-quart pan. You need one at least that big to allow for expansion while the jelly boils. Dispose of the cobs and remaining water.

WARNING:  Never turn your back on jelly. It will boil over. Stir continuously with a whisk.

Add the pectin to the retained liquid and bring to a roiling boil.
Add the sugar and boil two or three minutes until completely dissolved.
Remove from heat.
For esthetic reasons only, add a couple of drops of red food coloring and stir to incorporate.




This recipe foams. (It has air bubbles trapped in the upper surface.) Skim the foam off with a large spoon until you have clear jelly. Pour into half-pint jars and seal using recommended canning procedures.

Make some toast, spread the foamy jelly on it, and eat!









Corn Cob Jelly probably doesn't taste like anything you ever ate before. The flavor is hard to describe. I think it resembles pear jelly a little bit. It is not as good as grape or strawberry, but we think it tastes wonderful on fresh, homemade biscuits. The pioneers had a good idea.


As a gift, it is a great conversation starter.




*NOTE:  Powdered pectin has been around since the 1910's. Therefore the recipe is not the one used during the EARLY pioneer days. Other natural sources for making juice gel might have been used.
** If you want an all-natural product, omit the red food color. The finished jelly will be a mild amber color, depending on how dark the corn cobs were.

Marble, Colorado

Happy Labor Day! I hope you are doing something fun today. Here is one of my fondest memories.


Labor Day 2005

We took my parents to beautiful Colorado to see my son.  Rather, he took his dad to photograph scenery.

 
Maroon Bells is a short drive from Aspen. Even with a layer of clouds, the peaks and reflection were beautiful.

From there we went to Marble.  My mother was recovering from knee surgery. Nevertheless, she was gung ho to hike to the back entrance of the Yule Marble Quarry where some of the whitest marble in the world is mined. We walked slowly, and she held my arm. She was determined to see everything. When we got there, we had some fun. It's hard to tell from a photo, but that slab was about 5 feet tall and at least 8X8 square.

What good sports.

The good sportsmanship didn't last when we got home and printed these pictures. Mom thought they were funny.  Dad didn't.

Rule 19:  Don't out kid a kidder.

More touristy information:

Marble Mine

 This is the chunk I lugged back down the trail to the car.