a question, a quote, and one more little tidbit

THE QUESTION: some scientists say that mad cow disease came from cows eating cows. i don't know anything about that, but my question is, do you have a natural "icky" feeling about that idea or, more specifically, the idea of chickens eating chicken? a friend suggested that it should "feel" wrong to feed chicken to chickens. we usually feed our always-voracious and totally omniverous (and very stupid) chickens whatever we have left over each day, and i was and am totally devoid of the "icky" feeling i should (maybe) have. do you feel it?

THE RANDOM QUOTE OF THE DAY: (from "southern living") "highlands [NC] is a real hot spot for salamander diversity..." (is this something you always wanted to know?)

ONE MORE TIDBIT: from (i cited this book in my last post---i'm not doing all that italicizing again) "We are sad at funerals, but there's no such thing as a funeral without a humorous moment. Once a visiting Episcopal minister took a step backward and fell smack into the grave. It certainly livened up the service.

Not many have forgotten the time one of our more intellectual citizens died, and the Presbyterian minister, who had known her forever, was out of town. The family rustled up a supply minister who'd never laid eyes on her. The night before the funeral, the family gathered to tell him all about the deceased, her fortitude in the face of a long sickness, her appreciation for art and literature. The sisters, knowing their big sister would want it, requested the minister to read some poetry, maybe a bit of Shakespeare or Keats. But the visiting divine chose "Keep a-Goin'." ('Tain't no use to sit and whine 'cause the fish ain't on your line; Bait your hook an' keep on tryin', keep a-goin'.") The bereaved sisters were doubled over with laughter. If you can't find something to laugh about, you will end up crying."

this is, no doubt, true.

"dying tastefully in the mississippi delta"

"After the solemnity of the church service and finality of the grave, the people of the Mississippi Delta are just dying to get to the house of the bereaved for the reception.

"Friends and family begin arriving with covered dishes, finger foods, and sweets as soon as the word is out that somebody has died....You can't bury a self-respecting Deltan without certain foods. Chief among these is tomato aspic with homemade mayonnaise---without which you practically can't get a death certificate---closely followed by Aunt Hebe's coconut cake, and Virginia's butterbeans.

"The burial, which is solemn though rarely entirely devoid of humor, most likely takes place at the old cemetery on South Main Street. The old cemetery is one of the best addresses in Greenville, Mississippi. Being buried anywhere else is a fate worse than death in Greenville. The FFGs---that's First Families of Greenville---would simply refuse to die if they weren't assured of a spot. Not that the old cemetery is strictly FFG. Not by a long shot. Lola Belle Crittenden, bless her heart, had to plant a huge hedge around her ancestral plot. Why? The neighbors. "They're so tacky," Lola Belle huffed.

"We're people with a strong sense of community, and being dead is no impediment to belonging to it. We won't forget you just because you've up and died. We may even like you better and visit you more often.

The old cemetery sees quite a bit of traffic, from the living and the dead....When Adelle Atkins, a widow, married James Gilliam, a Greenville widower, she insisted on bringing her late husband, Harry, along. She asked whether she could re-bury him on the Gilliam family plot. Adelle's new in-laws...were appalled. They were obsessed with who would go where when the day came. And besides, they hated the notion of new dead people coming in and just taking over.

"Cremation is a possible solution to the overcrowding problem [at the old cemetery]. But it's still a new and dicey proposition in the Delta. The last time somebody was cremated, his ashes were sprinkled from a crop duster. We all ran for cover. We liked him fine, but we didn't want him all over our good clothes."

from Being Dead is no Excuse, the Official Southern Ladies Guide to Hosting the Perfect Funeral, Gayden Metcalfe and Charlotte Hayes

four old ladies running amok!

i have been in the mountains of nc. did anyone miss me? i went with three other ladies, all of us over the age of 55. i was neither the oldest nor the youngest.

you might wonder, what do four old ladies do for fun in the mountains? well, one has two artifical hips and two artificial knees, one's bladder capacity is about two teaspoons, one has kidney stones, and one has only one or two active hours before needing a nap. can you guess which one of those descriptions is me?

this is our idea of running amok. we got away from our kids and husbands and into the company of only people who appreciate us for the wonderful quirky geniuses we are. we shopped the thrift stores. we sat and looked at the river until it made someone think of the bathroom. we ate vast quantities of food and dessert. we listened to an old man tell stories of revolutionary war history that occurred in the exact spot we were. we ate fudge. one of us danced with strange men (the one with the artificial joints). we kissed each other's sweet cheeks and said to ourselves, "i am SO lucky to have such good friends."

review: my mother's day talk

well, my mother's day talk played yesterday to mixed reviews. many women came up to me and said the equivalent of "right on." this made me happy and made me feel like eliza r. snow. i worried a little when the bishop stood up after the meeting, turned left (away from me) and went immediately down into the congregation. he generally comes down the row the other way and shakes hands with everyone who spoke in the meeting. he also avoided me all through the three-hour block, including twice when he passed me face-to-face in the hall.

after church, a friend came up and said, "my sons and i enjoyed your talk SO MUCH. especially the part where you made the bishop squirm." that stopped me in my tracks. i asked her when that was, and she said, "you know, the part where you said, EVERYONE wrecks their kids! our parents wrecked us, and we wreck our kids. it's a family tradition!" i said......"i didn't say that.....did i?" she just laughed.

so there it is. eliza r. snow or howard stern?

i can say that i already have my apology to the ward planned, in case it should be needed.

maybe i should charge!

i am giving our ward's main talk tomorrow, on the topic of Mother's Day!!! (what else?)

i know it's late and saturday...

...but any suggestions???

that's what I say!

"I had thought my real chance [of getting "in" with the popular girls in junior high school] would come from going to charm school at the Women's Club last spring, Friday afternoons for six weeks, but I got barred because I didn't have a mother, a grandmother, or even a measly aunt to present me with a white rose at the closing ceremony. Rosaleen [our housekeeper] doing it was against the rules. I'd cried till I threw up in the sink.

"'You're charming enough,' Rosaleen had said, washing the vomit out of the sink basin. 'You don't need to go to some high-falutin school to get charm.'

"'I do so,' I said. 'They teach everything. How to walk and pivot, what to do with your ankles when you sit in a chair, how to get into a car, pour tea, take off your gloves....'

"Rosaleen blew air from her lips. 'Good Lord,' she said.

"'Arrange flowers in a vase, talk to boys, tweeze your eyebrows, shave your legs, apply lipstick...'

"'What about vomit in a sink? They teach a charming way to do that?' she asked.

"Sometimes I purely hated her."


from The Secret Lift of Bees, by Sue Monk Kidd, p. 9-10.

i dare to change julia's sacred bread recipe

i hope you have tried julia's bread. it's my very favorite bread that i make. if i had the opportunity to choose between eating homemade julia's bread and san francisco french bread (parisian brand!) i would choose the san francisco bread.

chris's julia's bread

1 c sourdough starter
1 pkt or 2 1/4 t yeast
3 c unbleached flour
2 1/4 t salt
1 c tepid water

put water in bowl. add flour and salt. add yeast and sourdough. follow instructions from previous recipe.

dear julia

"dear julia" is not to be confused with "dear ruby," elder nelson's newest great granddaughter. are we prepared to try dear julia's fransh bread? ("fransh" is what you say for "french" if you are attempting a spurious french accent.)

i found this recipe, not in dear julia's cookbook, but online at this site: breadchick.blogspot.com the particular post is "The Sour Dough: Ze Daring Bakers Conquer French Bread ala Julia." (this is in case you want to go back and get ALL of the instructions.) the ingredients for this bread are flour, water, salt and yeast. period. when i printed out all of the instructions, it came to 25 pages. i will leave out what i think is superfluous (about 24 pages).

don't disdain this lovely bread because of the simplicity of the ingredients. the flavor is marvelous, with a tiny bit of "sour" flavor. this is because of the length of the risings. a really long rising allows the yeast to produce a tiny amount of alcohol that makes this subtle sour flavor. i will put up my own version of this recipe, which contains sour dough starter and is more sour that this version, tomorrow.

dear julia's french bread

1 pkt (2 1/4 t.) yeast
2 1/4 t salt
1 3/4 c warm water
3 1/2 c unbleached flour

(i use a kitchen aid to mix and knead my bread, but do whatever you like about that.) put water and salt in the bowl add 1 c flour with the yeast stirred in. stir. add the rest of the flour and stir or work with your hands to make a soft, sticky dough. turn out onto a kneading surface and let the dough rest for 2-3 minutes. start kneading, adding a little flour here and there to keep the dough from sticking to your fingers. knead until the dough is elastic, about 10 minutes. let dough rest for 3-4 minutes.

put in greased bowl and let rise to triple its original size, about 3-5 hours.

dump risen dough out onto your kneading surface. if the dough seems damp and sweaty, sprinkle it with a T of flour. flatten the dough firmly into a circle, deflating any gas bubbles by pinching them.

return the dough to the bowl. let rise again until not quite triple in bulk. turn the dough out again onto your kneading surface. if damp, then flour.

with this dough, you can make 3 long loaves, 5-6 thin long loaves, 10-12 rolls, 2 medium round loaves, or one large round loaf. cut the dough for the type of loaves you want to make. let dough rest for 5 minutes.

form loaves (most of the rest of the instructions are about how to form a loaf "properly," but i'm sure you will be pleased with whatever you do to make loaves, rounds or rolls out of this dough).

place finished loaves on greased baking sheets that have been sprinkled with cornmeal. let rise one last time about 1 1/2 or 2 1/2 hours. about 1/2 hour before your loaves will be finished rising, preheat oven to 425. also put your teakettle on to boil.

wet the outside of the loaves with water, either with a spray bottle or with a pastry brush dipped in water. put a pan (such as a metal cake pan) on the bottom rack of your oven, and fill with boiling water (you wondered what the teakettle was for, didn't you?). put in your bread and let bake for 3 minutes. then pull the bread out and wet the crust again. put it back in for three more minutes, then pull the bread out and wet the crust again. bake for three more minutes and wet the dough one last time. then remove the pan of water, put the bread back in, and set your timer for about 16 minutes. after 16 minutes, your all-day project of making french bread is finally finished! your crust should be thick, chewy and crunchy. the inside should be soft, coarse, and slightly sour tasting.

bon appetit! as dear julia would say.