Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label magic. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Applebutter Day in the Mountains


One large copper kettle

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Two large stainless kettles

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Hundreds of large jars of apple sauce

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Cinnamon – lots of cinnamon

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Three motors formerly used to run turkey-house curtains

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Three thing-a-ma-jigs with rubber fan belts

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One permanent lean-to built shed-style with farm leftovers

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Three farmers

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One great neighbor

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Lots of church women

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Countless bottles & funnels and labels

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One raconteur with an anit-Obama bumper sticker in his pocket

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McKendree Methodist Church apple butter

Rosalee ran Angelika and me up to McKendree this morning to check out the applebutter making operation – one of McKendree’s big fundraising projects for the year.

The smells – heavenly.  The atmosphere – pure country.  The end result – tasty.

In some ways I miss the old-school style – with the long wooden paddles for stirring and pennies thrown in the copper pots to prevent sticking.  But I’m not the one doing the stirring.

And you have to admire the common-sense ingenuity that made from spare parts and willing hands three automatic stirring machines.

The smell of applebutter in the making on a cool fall day, sun shining off the fall leaves, fills the air with magic, and that’s a recipe worth following.


Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Better Fireflies

Rowen and I won’t tell Wes, but we are agreed: he has the better fireflies (lightening bugs to us).  Last night we drove over at dark to Wes’ place on invitation to come and see the best fireflies.  Wes is right – it is an amazing sight.

Stand in front of the house and stare at the fields all around and it’s like the tall grass is filled with dancing light.  Turn around and see the treed hill with more of the same.

And another thing – the fireflies at Wes’ place are way faster than here in “town” (what folks living out call McDowell, a village of maybe 30 people).  Whatever we did, we just couldn’t catch them – they were just too fast.  So another, unexpected difference develops: country fireflies are faster fliers than their town cousins.  Who knew?

It was a magical night, or as Rowen said, it was more magical.

Running through the grass to starlight, dancing and turning in circles with a soon-to-be 6-year-old, I watch as this beloved of my heart jumps and shrieks his enthusiasm which his little body just cannot contain.

And all is well.

Heading back home, we get the tent out and our night of joy is complete, for this is the first night Rowen will manage to sleep the night in the tent with me.

And the stars smiled.