“We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.” – Abraham Lincoln (Republican)
View of Potomac River from overlook on trail in Seneca Park.
I took the day off today. I had a long list of errands to run and a dog recovering from surgery to tend to. My first 15-minute errand turned into a three hour affair. Things were not going as planned.
Just as I sat down to some lunch and to ice our dog’s bruised leg, the phone rang. It was a friend. He noted that the weather was nice and asked if I would like to go for a walk. I immediately said no and explained how off-track my day was. I was thinking, there is no way I will get everything done today. He said OK and rang off. Continue reading →
Mill stone at Dellinger’s Mill in Bakersville, NC grinds corn into cornmeal.
I grew up eating cornbread that my mother made in a cast iron skillet. When I decided I wanted to help with the cooking, making cornbread was one of the first things Mom taught me how to make. The recipe was simple; a cup of self rising cornmeal, a bit of sugar, an 1/8th teaspoon of baking soda, an egg, a tablespoon of vegetable oil and cup of buttermilk. While you mixed up the ingredients, you heated up the skillet and another tablespoon of oil in the oven. Once the skillet and oil were hot, you poured the batter in the skillet and baked it until it was firm in the middle with crisp brown edges. Finally, you might have to turn the broiler on for a few minutes to brown the top.
It seems like we ate that cornbread about five nights a week and we never got tired of it. Sometimes, we smothered it with stewed tomatoes and bacon. Mostly we just ate it as a piece of bread to go along with our minute steak or pork chops. At the holidays, we used the cornbread to make dressing. I still make that cornbread from time to time and it is always a key part of our holiday meals, but I had long forgotten the story behind it until a recent conversation with my mom. Continue reading →