It’s New Years. and I bet that on 95% of all  Resolution lists is: Lose Weight.

And it can be called: Diet, Cut Calories, Enroll at a gym,  walk every day, and it doesn’t matter, for they all boil down to two  words: Lose Weight.

I’ve watched others fight that fight, for there’s a proclivity toward overweight in the Bradford genes.  My sons are free of it, but I’ve seen others fight the fight.

Jake, my brother-in-law, was one who broke the curse,  and in an odd way, and now that he has stepped into ‘The Next Room’, I feel safe to tell his secret, and anyway, I don’t think he’d care if I told his method.

He had gone to a Doctor for some malady, and in the last moments, the Doc asked him if he’d ever thought about losing weight, and Jake truthfully confessed the thought was always on his mind.

The Doc smiled and said, “I know.  It was the same with me,” and Jake was surprised for the doctor was not overweight and wondered if he had some magic pill.

No, not any magic potion, but here’s what that Doc said had worked for him, and they’d  learned, and laughed over, in Med School,  and needed no Prescription, either.  Only he had not laughed, but used it.

“Go to a grocery store,” he said, “and pick  up a 10-pound sack of Sugar.  Hold and feel its weight.  Heavy, but not too bad.

“Well”, the Doc went on,  “hold that ten-pounder in one arm and pick  up another ten-pound sack.  And  that, will be a bit  harder, for twenty pounds can be cumbersome.”

And then, the Doc told him that he (Jake) was  sixty pounds over normal, and Jake was shocked, for he was no dummy and immediately saw what the good doctor was telling him.

“Jake”, he went on, “you’ll find that two ten-pound sacks are not easy for you to hold,  but keep going, because every second of your day and night you are carrying  the weight of SIX ten-pound sacks of Sugar.  No matter what you’re doing, you are coping with those six sacks.  Sixty pounds of Sugar sacks.

Jake told me he was in shock, for he said, I knew I couldn’t hold six Ten-pound sacks of Sugar in my arms,  “And  yet,” the Doc continued, “you are doing it.  It’s spread out over  your body, around your intestines, heart, liver, lungs, everywhere under your skin, is spread the weight of those six ten-pound sacks.”

Jake said he wasn’t laughing as he left the Doctor’ s  office, because his mother, Gram, did a lot of home canning, and he had bought and carried many sacks of sugar from car to kitchen for her, and knew exactly how much they weighed.

Six ten-pound sacks of sugar.

 He told me he didn’t  have much appetite that evening for dinner and his mother asked if he were ill.  No, just not hungry, he answered, but he began that very afternoon in getting rid of ONE ten-pound sack of sugar, and in a month or more, he went at a second ten-pounder.  Said he never aimed for more that one ‘sack’ at a time, for his knew his weaknesses.  but in a couple of years he was no longer carrying around ‘six  ten-pound sacks of Sugar’.

Jake said  he couldn’t get over  how heavy even one sack of sugar is to  hold, and that, if he bought two of them for his mother, he had always taken two trips from car to house, to get them to  where they were needed.

And then to know that he, every second of the day and night, was carrying six of them. It worked for him.  No pills, no exercise, not one thing, except the shock of  realizing how heavy just  ONE ten-pound sack of sugar had been.  And it worked for him for the rest of his days.

Listen to that Kid . . .

The Wise Guys tell me Christmas is Kid Stuff
And just maybe they’ve got something there.
Two thousand years ago
Three Wise Guys
Chased a Star across a whole continent to bring
Frankincense and Myrrh to a Kid
Who was born in a manger with an Idea in his head.
And today
As the bombs crash and there is terror over the world
The real Wise Guys know that we all must
Again go chasing Stars
In the hopes that we can get back some of that
Long ago Kid Stuff
That was born two thousand years ago.
Frank Horne, 1942

Isn’t that great? Imagine: Three Wise Guys saw a star followed it and found a Kid. A Kid with such an inborn Idea that it changed the whole world. Their world. Your world.  My world.

Three Wise Guys found a Babe, (we call them Kids) and that Kid had an Idea within Himself that nothing or no one has ever been able to change. hide, disguise, or forget.

And from very first, to very last That ‘Kid’ was:
Ever Pure.
Ever Wise
Ever Free.

And, it’s good to remember that those Wise Guys weren’t The Big Story, and would not be known two thousand years later, except for their one task which they did so well. The job of following their Star to find the way to The Kid, and presenting Him with the gifts they brought. They let you, me, and all others, know that there WAS such a glorious, world-changing story. That there is that Kid, and that It dwells within each one of us.

We remember them as we “Follow our Star”, for there we also will find Christ. A Christ that will receive our gifts, and then we will go our new way. as new People. Sounds so simple. and it is simple.  But it’s not easy.

For, difficult to believe and remember, but you and I and everyone else has a Star if we will pay attention, find and follow it. Right straight to that Kid who dwells within.

I wouldn’t be writing these words, and you wouldn’t be reading them if we hadn’t seen, read, heard about, or sensed our Star and heard the message that  has taken us from our very prosaic life into an inner pathway that is ours to follow.

We found something . . . or Something found us . . that made us know there is more to life than what our five senses can bring.

We have sometimes ignored it, belittled it, and tried to put it aside.  We sense that  if we   follow  the Star’s gentle, ever-present Presence, our entire  lives will  change.  And,  fearful of  any unfamiliar change, we so often allow  fear to be our master and not ‘hear’ our Star.

My Star began prodding me a long time before I recognized and began listening and heeding It.

But inexorably,  Something, my Star, your Star, has stirred us until we know the Kid was not only in Bethlehem, but within each one of us, and we are just lucky (blest?) enough to have heard It.

In the long run, it doesn’t matter what happens to this body called Ethel, but just the same something nudged me, made me aware of The Kid within, and made Ethel’s goal to be the best grown-up Kid that she can be.

Many decisions that have come to me have been decided by silently moving to a place of quiet where I could ‘listen’ to that Kid within and my choices have not changed the world, but they have changed Ethel’s world. And I am grateful.

      This Christmas, as best I can, I’m going to try to be a Wise Guy, follow my Star, and again find and communicate with The Kid. The real Kid that dwells within us all and is ever wise, ever pure, ever free.

Get those presses rolling.  Or not.

        The Power of the Press. Everyone agrees with the truth of those five words, and to prove the point, the absence of the Salt Lake Tribune, last Saturday, shook up people throughout the entire State of Utah.

A ‘Production Problem’ was the cause of the delay, and it was re-scheduled for afternoon delivery, but it finally came in a huge packet along with the Sunday Paper. It was only one day late, but the effects of a daily Paper being undelivered for just one day are many, for timing is vital in the news and advertising fields and when that ‘time’ is lost, the effects are not easily erased.

To the average person, (me), it’s the shock of not having that ubiquitous Paper alongside my breakfast plate. Like half of a twin being missing; bread and butter, salt and pepper, breakfast and the paper. The food doesn’t taste right without it. And I still ‘see’ my father with his paper and Mama handing him the eggs, meat, toast and (forgive me, Dad) also his morning coffee.

The Paper can be but an hour late, before I’m asking, “Where’s my Paper?” And if you’ve ever worked at a Newspaper, their answer, “Production Problem” makes you shiver with empathy. Can be a small item, fixed in a moment or few hours, but it also might mean something big. Where the Press (and they are BIG) must be taken apart. The ‘broken’ piece not stocked locally, so employees sit idly about while someone in some far off City is gathering people to get that piece on a Plane and to Salt Lake fast.

Many press parts are heavy and a crane is needed, and, anyway by this time the management is already scrambling to find some other newspaper who will double-schedule their staff and print your paper in their spare time, and then ship it to you. The Ogden Daily Examiner came to the Trib’s rescue . and with thanks to them, the two Papers arrived together and that part of the crisis was over.

But the effects are long. First there’s the ‘paper boy’ who long ago ceased being the neighborhood boy or girl, but now are often adults and Delivering Papers might be their only, or more often their second or third jobs, and if their bundles of newspapers don’t arrive on time, then their schedule is fouled up. Their phone starts ‘ringing off the wall’, and if they have another job, say at nine a.m., it’s to helly with that, too.

And how about the advertisers who have a One Day Sale? Or, those who place want ads to sell their unwanted stuff, and planned the weekend to do so? Well, there go those plans, and the store with items sitting at ‘give away’ price? They keep sitting, too.

And, then what about the managers of those stores who paid good shekels for those ads, which did not reach any home? The ads were of no benefit to them.

Any extra help hired for the week end?   Well, they can be sent home, but wages must still be paid. But perhaps the biggest loser of all, is the newspaper itself. Advertising is what keeps a Paper going, so figure it out for yourself. There are no winners, but there are many losers.

Production Problems. I know just enough about newspapering to get the      shivers when I heard those two words. Many a production problem has side effects known to no one outside the Press room itself, or the same two words can have long tentacles that reach far away and keep reaching for a long time.

Yeah, we both want and need newspapers. We can get the ‘headlines’ of stories by TV or radio, but to get to the real ‘meat’ of the stories, we need the printed words. Daily newspapers are the answer and for most of Utah, it’s the Tribune.

The poor ‘paper boy’ gets yelled at for the poor delivery, the reporters who work hard to find and write the stories are disappointed, but that’s only the tip of the ice berg because, for the owner’s and publishers of that paper? It’s their very life blood.

This Production Problem was a computer problem. However, it took phone calls to someone in Germany who knew the in’s and out’s of the problem and then good Brains on both sides of the Atlantic to explain how to remedy it. It worked.

Let’s all be grateful that the Trib got the presses rolling, and cross our fingers that they keep them rolling. There are thousands like me whose days can’t get off to the ‘right’ start without The Salt Lake Tribune at our table, right along with our ham, eggs, and (?) coffee..

It’s in our power to make another person’s day special.

        Holidays occasion a storm of gift giving. Expensive gifts, purchased at fashion marts of the world; cherished ones made by loving hands; and childish tokens to be treasured as long as life and memory last in the mind of the parent who received them. All are exchanged.

        But, humanly, we often overlook the most wonderful gift of all, the gift of words and acts of love. We shy away from words that come from within, the true coinage of the heart. Strangely, we will sacrifice and go without to save money for a gift, yet will withhold the precious gifts that costs not one cent. 

        For it doesn’t take money to give of yourself. We all can give of warmth, hope and courage. We can all offer a shoulder for someone to shed a few tears, and there is not one among us who hasn’t, at sometime, also needed that understanding shoulder for our own tears. 

        We can give comfort to someone who is ill, disturbed or in sorrow. This also should be easy, for everyone—even you and I—have been and probably will again, be in need of love and encouragement. 

        These gifts may be difficult the first times you give them, for often  we have allowed thosf dear words to become unfamiliar to our lips. It takes so little time to pat your husband on his shoulder as he leaves for work, to tell him you understand how hard the day sometimes must be but that you love him for doing it for you and your children. 

        It takes so little time for a husband to put his arm around his wife and speak words of love to her. To tell her how much he loves her, the home she makes for him, the time she gives to prepare the food and to care for the children. 

        It’s such a little effort to phone a friend and say “I’ve been thinking of you” or send an email, or write a note, “I haven’t heard of you for so long and wondered about you.”

        We even become so accustomed to our own children we forget to tell them that “No matter how much I scold you over little things, I really think you’re wonderful.” Or to a friend, “Thanks for the many hours I’ve shared with you. Your friendship is precious to me.” 

        I’m reminded of all this because recently the husband of a friend suddenly died during the day. That very morning however, as he was leaving for work he turned back and said “I think I’ll take time for another cup of coffee,” and they shared a few precious, unexpected moments of quiet. 

        It was so un-like him, so different from his usual morning rush, that when, in just hours, an accident took him and he never returned, she cherished these few moments like gold. “In his own way,” she said, “he told me that morning that even though we’d had rough times, he loved me and our children.” 

        Now, of course, most of us leave home in the morning and very routinely return that night. But sometimes some of us don’t. With such awareness we shouldn’t let our gift-giving be only for special occasions or limited to material things. It takes such a little time, and not one cent, to give the precious ones.  

        Words of love, friendship and understanding are, after all, the best both to give and to receive. Not as a formal ritual, but naturally, almost casually. So, during every one of the thirty-one days ahead, in word or in deed, tell someone you love them. 

         It’s in our power to make another person’s day special. Let’s do it and hope this special gift-giving will spur others to do the same. Worth a try.

 Now What Will We Do With Them?

         Today, we have no designated ‘foe’, yet we’re at war, and I don’t even know what General is planning the strategy. It wasn’t always so.

         In WW2, we knew our enemy and who our Generals were. We had MacArthur who achieved absolute surrender from the Japanese; Patton, who won The Battle of the Bulge, shortening the war by years; and Eisenhower of the European Theatre who later became our President.

         They were different, because their tasks were different. West Point develops more than one kind of military leadership, for in some battles one General is strong, while in other circumstances that same man would be weak.

         In WW2 there were two Generals that their Bosses, FDR and General Omar Bradley, did not know where and how to best use. Extremely talented, and perfect for their type of ‘fight’. but entirely wrong in others. Privately, they labeled them as “Loose Cannon”.

         One was Douglas MacArthur. who brilliantly won the fight in the Pacific. Outstanding even from his years at West Point, but his fellow cadets and co-workers either detested or loved him. Japan ended up loving him for he (along with Thomas Jefferson) gave them a Constitution they still live by, and equality for women.

         But he was a know-it-all tyrant and when the Korean troubles began he wanted to invade China and disobeyed by moving troops in that direction, forcing his  bosses, President Truman, and General Omar Bradley, to immediately Fire him.

         Another where-can-we-use-him was George Patton, Jr.

         He, a believer in reincarnation, said he had been Alexander the Great, and he just might have been, for at one time. in Tunisia, and his Advisors strongly suggesting he take a certain route. Patton said “No, I happen to know it’s that direction,” pointing the other way. “You see, I’ve been here before.  I fought right here, with the Carthaginians against the Romans  in 246 B.C.”   He was the boss, so they went his way and got to their destination quickly, and were able to surprise the Germans and win a battle. 

         He was far seeing, bold, and often acted independently. He knew his own talents and suffered because he was kept in obscure, small positions.

         But when Germany had the Allies ambushed in the Ardennes (Battle of the Bulge), Patton was immediately assigned to the task and he was in his element. He moved swiftly, pulling in troops from left and right, was always out front, not hidden in any 0ffice. He was bold, and in spite of everything against him, he pushed back the Germans and won the long battle.

         More lives were lost there than in any other battle, but it was a crucial one, that a less bold leader could not have handled, and the European War would have been extended for years.

         But with both Generals, the problem was what to do with them when their particular kind of crisis was over? ? ?

         Patton died within a year from a car accident and it was termed a blessing for he did not know how to be a peaceful civilian. MacArthur, fired, made a sad bid for the Presidency, and spent his days giving stirring speeches at universities around the world.

         FDR said of them; “Sadly, they are the kind of men we need in the Army, but are disasters when the fight is over”. General Omar Bradley, boss of both men, was quoted as saying, “WW2 would have lasted far longer without the two of them, but now the battle’s over, what can we do with them?”

         Eisenhower, their contemporary, was a different kind of General. He was a human being, let it show, and everyone liked Ike. He became president of a University, and later our President and responsible for the Nation’s wonderful Freeway system. He was a terrific General, but Eisenhower also knew how to be a civilian.

         People worshipped or hated both Patton and MacArthur. They viewed their troops of men as mere puppets for their personal use, and it showed. In war such men are needed, but pray God we never again let ourselves get in such a place where we need that kind of leadership.

         And . . .  it is interesting but sad to know that upon MacArthur’s death, his only son legally changed his name and disappeared into New York City’s World of Music. Yeah, for good or bad, war’s a different thing today.

Today’s words are for my sister, Bernice and her husband Wayne. They are the new great-grandparents of Cam, a Preemie boy, who is now doing well and out of an Incubator and into a crib in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit).

Because of the emergency of the birth, the Father, stationed in Afghanistan, was allowed a special Leave to come home, and it’s a wonderful time.

So, thinking of babies, I dug out a poem that Johnson Baby Products used in an advertisement in 1953. It’s done its work for lots of babies since then, and though some of the wording is dated . . . the heart of the poem is as true today as it was then.

And so, to Bernice and Wayne, Katherine, Cam and all others, my greetings.

Yes, there’s a baby in the house . . .

Look there,

there by the door, there where a shoe and a crumpled sock,

and a bright red block,

and a short fat elephant clutter the floor,

and the signs are clear . . .

A baby is near. 

Look there,

there by the stair,

by the cellar stair to the washing machine,

there’s a stack of diapers that ought to be clean,

and a clutter of strange looking things to wear,

and the signs are clear,

A baby lives here.

Look there,

there by the table,

there where the milk drips down in a puddle

and fruit and cereal mix in a muddle,

and a soiled bib swings from a silver cable,

all signs are clear

A baby eats here.

Look there,

there in the bed,

there where a red-faced cherub lies, thumb in his mouth,

and tight-shut eyes, and his bottom higher than his head.

Quiet, quiet, it’s perfectly clear

A baby sleeps here.

Look there,

look in the eyes,

and look in the hearts

of those who watch while a baby sleeps,

who will come at a call if he wakes and weeps,

who forget the diapers and broken toys,

who remember the tears and fears and joys

and the catch in the throat, and the clutch of the heart

when small hands fumble, and reach and touch.

Yes, look in their hearts, and the signs are clear

A baby lives here.

Congratulations to the new great-grandparents, joy to the Grandparents, happiness to the parents, and welcome to the baby, Cam.

From a good friend, to me and to you . . .

        The familiar song says: “That’s what friends are for”. but today, I’ve changed the words to; “This is what friends are for” and I mean it. Only the words of this intro are mine. All the rest came from that Friend. And I say ‘Thank You’.

– – – – – – – – – –

        The Holiday Season, when we’re sharing special time with loved ones and bringing the year to a close, is a Perfect time to recall the many things we have to be thankful for. This holiday season take time to lift your spirits and make the season more meaningful and joyful by giving thanks — individually and with family and friends — for the things that have made your lives better.

Here are Ten Ideas for Happy Holidays, and a life.

1. Keep a Gratitude Journal. Each day of the holiday season write down at least three things you are grateful for. Anything counts, a promotion, your baby’s first steps, a walk outside on a beautiful day, hug from a loved one, or a long ago Teacher who spoke words that changed your life.

2. Make a Gratitude Jar. Create a family project where everyone writes things they are thankful for on slips of paper. Place those notes in a jar to be read when the family is gathered around the table or tree.

3. Create a Gratitude Tree. Draw a tree trunk and branches on a sheet of paper. Using colored paper (you can use colors that reflect the holidays that your family celebrates or seasonal colors) cut out leaves for the tree. Have each person write something he or she is grateful for on a leaf and glue it to the tree. Give it a place of honor for the holidays.

4. Gather and give thanks. When your family is gathered for the holiday meal, go around the table and have each person say a few things that he or she has been thankful for during the past year. End with a toast giving thanks for all those things and each other.

5. Give to others. As a family, learn about different charitable organizations and efforts. Together choose one that is meaningful to you and volunteer your time and efforts, make a donation or participate in some other way during the holidays.

6. Give Thanks daily. Dedicate 10 minutes each day during the holiday season to talking about gratitude and things you are grateful for.

7. Perform random acts of kindness. Agree that for a set time period, like a week or month, when each person will perform one act of kindness each day. Anything counts, whether large or small, random or planned. When your family is together at the end of the day (at dinner, before bedtime, or designate a special time), discuss what each of you did, what the response was and how it made you feel.

8. “Ring and Run” — Holiday style. Leave an anonymous holiday surprise at someone’s door, ring the bell and run away before the recipient opens the door and sees you. (Kids will really love this one!) Spread the cheer by adding a note asking them to pass it on and do the same for someone else.

9. Write a Thank You letter to someone who did something during the past year for which you are grateful. Mail or hand-deliver the thank you in person.

10. Make Gratitude your New Year’s resolution. Resolve to make Giving Thanks a regular part of your lives in the New Year.

        Giving thanks encourages you to live “in the moment” and be more open to the people and times in your life that give you joy not only during the holidays — but all year long.

– – – – – – – – – –

        I, with my son, William, (aka ‘Bill’), who does the brain work of this Blog, and my friend who sent it to me, wish you and your loved ones a happy Holiday season, Yes, yes, yes, but also for all of 2014, and while we’re at it, the wish is that the days of the rest of your lives be full of gratitude, peace and joy!

Puzzle or Enigma ?

        Life’s a puzzle, and to show what I mean, sit back and fold your arms. That’s right. Just fold your arms.

        It’s comfy. You’ve done it often, but now, look at your arms. One is on top, with the hand folded  under the other arm. Nice, but now try to do it the other way. See, I said try putting the other arm on top.

        Ho, ho, ho. That’s a different story. And it is a puzzle. Oh, we can do it with a bit of effort, but it doesn’t feel ‘right’. Or natural. It’s awkward and your arms get tangled up in a mess.

        Okay, after you’ve given up on the that, fold your hands. Yeah, the same way your Grade School Teacher told you to do and you’ve done it a million times since then. There’s one thumb comfortably on top, and the other tucked beneath. And now . . . and you know what I’m going to say . .. open them and fold then again with the other thumb on top. We’re all thumbs aren’t we?

        As you ask others to do these same two acts, you’ll think, as I did, that it must be connected with being ‘right or left’ handed, but it doesn’t. Or maybe we’re just creatures of habit or instinct, and who knows which is which.

        Stay with me and if you think I’m through, you just don’t know Ethel. Far Eastern people say that women always begin walking with their left foot first, and males start with the right. I dunno about   others, but yes, I begin with my left foot, and haven’t had the guts to ask others.  

        We all have our oddities. I’m right handed, but, I deal a deck of cards, put the silverware on the table, distribute napkins, or other hand-outs with my left hand, and have done so without a thought, BUT, when my first computer was installed and I sat down to use it, my first act was move the Mouse, which had been placed to the right of the keyboard, over to the left side.

        “I didn’t know you were left handed” was heard, and I quickly answered that I’m not, but that it just ‘works’ more easily and swiftly, if on the left.

        ‘They” say men dress by always starting with putting the same leg into their trouser legs and women the other. But yes, I do start with the same leg, pulling on panty hose, slipping my feet into shoes or tying shoe strings with the same pattern. And, I find I do many tasks with either the right or left, and also find the other way seems wrong when I try to switch.

        I don’t know if specialists have a name for such acts and they seem too randomly scattered to be put in one heap. But it’s real. A friend and I once traveled often together, and I soon learned that for both of us, it was better if I got up early, dressed and went downstairs to read the paper, enjoy a coffee and wait for her to meet me when she was ready.

        Otherwise, it was helly for both of us. It actually upset her to see the helter skelter way, to her, of what I did first, second or last. She had long hair, with a very unique hair style and would sometimes do and re-do it several times before every hair was in the right (same) place, and that drove me nuts.

        I sympathized, for it was something she could not change. She said that mowing the lawn was one of her chosen and well-liked tasks, but one ‘lawn day’ she was ill, and her husband good-heartedly mowed the lawn for her.

        He had no cut-and-dried map of How to Mow The Lawn, but just did it, and pleased that he had taken a hard chore from her, he left for work. And, now, believe me or not, she had to get up and re-mow that lawn in the ‘right’ way, so that the paths all lawnmowers leave were going in the ‘right’ way.

        For her, it was torture to see those pathways going ‘wrong’. That’s compulsive behavior in some form of another, and we all have them. No? Well go back to those first ideas of folding your arms. Your hands. Putting on your hosiery, your shoes, or using your computer Mouse. Ho, ho, ho. It’s a puzzle, and, well, if it’s not for you, it is for the rest of us.

Did I say fresh . . .

       Food. Seems as if our thoughts are on food a good part of our waking hours. Planning what to buy,   how to prepare it, eating it, cleaning up afterwards, working with it, and on and on. Food.
 
       But, dang it, food is what we live and survive on and so it’s worth all the time and thought. And now’s the time to remember that good Food makes a great gift.
 
       And so, while there is yet an abundance and variety of fresh food in the markets, and with the Gift-Giving time of the year not too far away, I’ve found a recipe for gift-giving that is perfect. The right time to prepare it, too, for the gift-giving season of the entire year is just two months ahead.
 
       My son WR brought a bottle of these to a family dinner and I knew that when the season rolled around again, I’d be after him for the How Of It All, and make them myself.
 
       I don’t know who first thought of this recipe, but I call it, “Bill’s Hot Dill Pickles” and here’s how he, and I and you can make them.
 
       First get together the different kinds of fresh vegetables (raw) that you like and prepare them into bite size pieces or strips. Bill used tiny carrots, (or cut up the larger ones), small round onions, pepper slices of all colors, cloves of garlic, bite-size pieces of Cauliflower, small fresh cukes (or cut up the larger ones), and keep going. Small green tomatos, as well as small okra pods, are mentioned in the basic recipe, as well.  Fresh.  Crisp.  Did I say fresh?
 
       Make your own choices. and if some don’t appeal to you, leave them out. And if you want more of the others, go ahead. See it’s all up to you. But firm veggies are to be used, and Pint size jars that can be sealed.
 
Make a brine of:
1 cup salt, NEVER USE IODIZED SALT for pickles.
1 quart white vinegar
3 quarts water.
That simple.
 
       Okay, and this is the only half-way difficult part of the job, but sterilize the jars in boiling water, and (using tongs) take bottles from the boiling water. Into the bottom of EACH bottle, put 2 or 3 heads of fresh (did I say Fresh) Dill, (dry can be used if you are desperate), a clove or two of Garlic, one red Hot Pepper, and 1/4 tsp alum.
 
       Fill the bottle with the raw fresh vegetables of bite size pieces, and then fill the bottle with the BOILING BRINE, leaving about 1 inch empty space at the top. Seal immediately with the Ball brand of lids which have the white inner lining. Other Brands are brass color on the inner sides, but experience has shown that the white inner sides are best for vinegar food.
 
       That’s all there is to this marvelous pickle. Let them sit on a shelf and age and age while they get better and better. Ideally, the recipe says you should make them one year, and eat them next, but most families serve them within a month or two. And they are good, but the longer you wait, the hotter and better they get.
 
       Right now would be great ‘making’ time for Xmas ‘giving’ time.
 
       And, if you have any questions ask Bill. He’s the expert on these goodies. I’m only the go-between, but sometimes good go-betweens are handy people to have around.

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       Actually, these are “Willie’s Pickles” as the recipe came from him in about 1975.  Willie was an old-school carpenter who worked for KUTV in those days.

       Also the standard disclaimers apply, be careful with the hot boiling water and get the kids out of the kithen while you are bottling.  Clean everything well but remember this is more like Grandma’s kitchen cooking than the sterilized Vlasic plant.  “Everyone eats a pound of dirt in their life” and most of it is nutritious.  Maybe that’s why these pickles are so good.  Be sure to use the most fresh produce available.

Pure cream . . .

      The media often gives me info I use, but other times? Well, a TV Panel was discussing the fact that 80% of us are over weight, and, if you, like me, enjoy eating Cheese? Don’t read my words.
 
      They told nothing new. That the wonderful stuff we grate, slice, toast or sprinkle, and in any form, color, or price, is nothing more than big blobs (yes, they used that word) of pure, thick Cream.
 
      Any cheese, they kept repeating, new or old, cheap or expensive, starts with the very same stuff we guiltily push to one side if whipped and served on a piece of pie. Form and age, the only difference, and I cringed, for they were hitting my eating habits with a vengeance.
 
      When the whey (milk) is discarded, and the cream curdled, then stored away from two, five, ten or more years, the more tasty, and expensive it gets. But only the Form changes, and basically, it remains pure cream. And puts the pounds on.
 
      They romanticized it, telling how, thousands of years ago, our ancestors, ‘blundered’ upon it as they milked their cow, sheep, goat, buffalo, or whatever lactating animal available, and if they tossed out the whey, and then left it alone,  they had created (probably the first) food that did not spoil, in hot or cold weather, and remained a nourishing food for years. We call it Cheese.
 
      And even today’s experts, use the same ‘recipe’, that the shepherds did, and as well as over half of the world’s population also does today. Nothing has changed except ‘details’. The Process? The same.
 
      Everyone of us has favorites of that wonderful stuff. For me, when it is grilled between slices of rye bread, it becomes a sandwich that makes my mouth water, and cheeks ache, even now, as I write about it.
 
      The TV group was torn in their opinions, too, trying to undermine our love for Cheese, and blaming a big portion of our extra poundage upon it. We forget, they said, exactly what we’re eating.   They named dozens. Stilton with its green mold? Cream. Feta, with a saltiness to make any salad sing? Cream. Cheddar? Cream. Mozzarella? Cream. Parmesan? Cream. Cream Cheese? Of course, Pure Cream.
 
      They ended up agreeing that the desert people all depend upon it for their daily food. But we with such a great, varied diet, should not over-indulge, and become aware that, in cheese, we are eating nothing but big blobs (again their words) of Pure Cream.

      The experts noted that we love it so much that we’ve made ‘Macaroni and Cheese’ a food that’s right up there with Apple Pie as a national favorite. And Pizza a close second. And yet we frown when served a dab of the same basic stuff, on some dessert.
 
      It’s all pure, plain, cream, turned into cheese, from today’s sanitized, refrigerated factories, to desert people, also of today, who make their cheese out in the open, with the animals it came from right alongside. By the very same process.
 
      Cheese has been a basic food wherever people live on what food they could/can  find in the fields, and often is the only difference between living and starving.

      Author, Laurie Lee, chose to remain in Spain when Franco, egged on by Hitler, began WW 2, and wrote of the two years he lived and fought with the families who dwelt in the deserts and dry mountains of that Iberian Peninsula. And how he learned to respect, and depend upon their stone-hard cheese, which they carried in their pockets, or sacks, and whether in summer’s heat or winter’s freezing, fed them as they fought.
 
      Cheese, they said,  is perhaps the world’s first ‘invented’ food. All we’ve changed is just how to fancy up the flavor and presentation. And according to the experts, must learn how to use it correctly, or keep our extra pounds. Oh me. 
 
      What they told was interesting but not new. They, too, couldn’t make up their minds as to whether to put Cheese on a no-no list, or not, but at the same time, they took away my joy of using it in my meals. Truth isn’t always fun.

ethelbrad@comcast.net