Memories of a Nut

A nut tree, that is.  My cousin Mark was here today.  Brought me some of the best burgoo in the country Burgoo overflowing the pot This is what burgoo looks like, but it isn’t what Mark brought me.  This is based on the same recipe though, the St. Martin’s picnic recipe.  The Keller recipe, to be exact.  Mark’s mom was a Keller, and they really know how to make it.

I’m going to have a bowl of that for dinner tonight.  I sleep late.  Meals are always late.  Stay up late at night.

Have some apple butter cooking in my crock pot.  I’ll can it tomorrow after its reduced by half.  Love the stuff on toast.  Probably good on waffles too.  Have to have those waffles to start my day.

Still getting over last tumble.  Head spinning and aching.  Whole body aching actually.  Usually fall forwards, but this time I fell backwards.

Oh well.  Back to the nut tree.  When I was growing up there was a walnut tree on the line between our field and the field Mark’s family had.  It had branches low enough that we could climb.  I spent a lot of time dreaming while sitting in that tree.  I asked Mark if it was still there, and was happy to learn it is.  Not only that, it still produces nuts.  Mark and Sandy, his wife, had to bring it back to life by pulling a lot of clinging poison ivy vines away from it, but it has thrived since then.

We also talked about the willow tree behind our house on Highway 81.  And how my brothers talked his brothers into trading their new toys for the bricks we used for cars and trucks.  I can remember how angry his dad was when he got home from work and discovered the exchange.  My poor mom had no idea it had happened, so she didn’t quite know how to respond to her angry brother.  I’m pretty sure that was only one of many such encounters, because my brothers loved teasing their cousins.  It’s a wonder Doug and Pat still speak to any of us.

Noah & Champ steer Just had to throw in a “proud grandma” picture.  That’s Noah and Astroid, his Grand Champ, Gold Medal steer.  Hummm, does that make me Astroid’s grandma too?  Just what I need, since I hate those beasts.  Noah, though, is another story.  He can tame a rattlesnake if he found one.  When he was about 3 he tamed a wild turkey.  Somewhere I have pictures of him riding the turkey.

Mark and I talked about Noah today.  Naturally, I had to throw in that little fact.  Mark asked me about my kids.  When I told him Mike is a Leap Year baby, and claims he is still 11, and in fact still acts 11 at times, he laughed with me about that.  Noah is 12 and mostly seems more mature than Mike.  Of course, Mike is very mature at work and sometimes around home, but with me, well, I guess he’ll always be my baby.  But he’s there for me when I need him and that’s an important thing.  He can fix anything that needs fixing, so I call on him to keep things running for me.

Sorry I’m on and off subject tonight, but blame it on my concussion.  They are getting harder to get over lately.  And our new hospital won’t accept my insurance now, so I’ve decided no more visits to the hospital.  They built it in a flood zone anyway.  With my luck we would have a flood if I ever go there.

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