Showing posts with label Rite of Passage. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rite of Passage. Show all posts

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Montana (Sans Hannah)

Safely returned home after four flights and a little bit of jet lag. I am sad that I had to leave our beloved S. Kemp in Missoula, but could not be happier for her. I thought I'd share a few of the pictures from the trip, and let them do the talking. Hope you enjoy!


Driving thru- or attempting to- Ashville, NC.


Eventually winding up in Nashville, TN and getting some much needed sleep. (And much needed time seeing my little sister who attends Vanderbilt! Smarty. ;) )


The second day was spent going from Nashville to Kansas City. Where we paid tribute at the World War I Memorial. (Sadly, they are closed on Mondays. Poo.)


We passed thru The Badlands of South Dakota and took a rest in Custer. (Such a cool place!) Somewhere along the lines we saw a bunch of old rockers. 

[Part Two of our adventures coming next week!]

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Yes, We Can Can

I had a post in mind all weekend.  I really did.  Scout's honor.  But then we had today off and a kitchen full of produce from my family's farm, and I wanted to try my hand at canning.

My grandmother canned food when I was a young girl.  Rows of snaps, butter beans, preserves, and pickles filled her spare bedroom.  In many ways, she was the most self-sufficient person I've known.  And I've always wanted to emulate that quality.

But I don't think I ever will.  My grandmother lived in a different culture, one that dictated her role as keeper of the house who raised and stored the family's food with little help.  My dad, sister, and brother raised the 25 pounds of tomatoes that went into the tomato sauce.  My mom was on the other end of the helpline and walked me through the process.  My husband and I worked together to core and slice and puree and drain and simmer and can.  Self-sufficiency is great, but it isn't dictated for me like it was for her.  I didn't realize that until today.

So I look at the few cans of tomato sauce cooling and I see a bit of magic a family made.  No one did it alone.  Yet, I can still say I satisfied my longing, experienced a rite of passage, and made a conscious effort to maintain my heritage, and it happened much sooner than I expected.  That is what happens when we don't go it alone.