Month: June 2018

Rhubarb pie…who knew?  Like who knew it was so delish.

Apparently lots of people, just not this gal.

Call me officially enlightened.

The Mr’s bro-in-law is a rhubarb pie guy..and just rhubarb…with clarity and conviction he told me, no strawberry this, custard that, just rhubarb..

Every Spring I say, dude I’m going to make you a pie.  The fact that my pie acumen is less than zero and I’m not even sure what rhubarb tastes like is a very minor detail in my annual proclamation.

But this spring, damn it, I was determined.

Mr. and I were out in Morgantown getting annuals for our pots, a story unto itself but we’ll save it for a slow news day.  Anyway we eye-spied an unmanned vegetable stand that said ‘rhubarb available’…clearly a sign from the pie Gods..or at least an Amish farmer.  And even more serendipitous, the family came home as we were skulking about..

“Sure we have rhubarb” said the father, and away I went bounding back into the garden with 2 of the children.  I pulled 2 stalks and said thanks so much.  The daughter with a steady frankness that probably could avert war said, “well what kind of pie are you baking?”  “Well rhubarb”, I replied confidently, “And no strawberry” and then continued to yak on about the Mr’s brother in law, and his summers in Wisconsin, his parents, blah blah blah.  She continued to quietly pick stalks while I blathered, and thought to myself, wow I guess they want to unload some of this rhubarb.

Helllo..the damn pie takes 5.5 cups…clearly something this 16 year old stateswoman knew.  And without any judgement, comment, or correction, she just made sure I went home with more than 2 stalks.

I laughed later upon reading the recipe…(yea clearly who reads a recipe before they start assembling ingredients) her story would have been more than fair if she described me as a yahoo without a clue!!

Oh and icing on the cake or lattice on the pie as it were…her younger brother, much more direct, rolled his eyes when I asked why they were stripping off the leaves.  “They are poisonous”.  Hmmm…good to know.

No pie acumen…well that’s the understatement of the day.

People, epilogue time, the pie was the bomb…fantastico…if I do say so myself (apparently I am but in fairness so did the neighbors).  And you know who never tasted it…yup that brother in law.  The pie gods (a/k/a Amish farmers) married the path of a great recipe, amazingly fresh crop, and good fellowship, but not, alas, an intersection of time with the brother in law.

And so, we ate it ourselves.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guess there is always next year…and I know the farm to visit for my stalks.

Be well lovely farmers in Morgantown.

Hope to see you along the way..

Over Memorial Day weekend with weather questionable, I tried to make a dent on my honey-do list…yes that list that is continually impacted by adds and subtracts but never seems to find its way to zero.

Maybe some combination of grey weather and taking stock of lives lost in battle motivated me to sort through boxes I have carried from pillar to post, though rarely opened. Some call this behavior hoarding…why ya holding onto that stuff, its just taking up space, you never even open the boxes.  I’ve heard it.  And my response…balderdash..I am a treasure keeper thank you very much!

And this weekend, treasure was indeed unearthed. Inside a storage box, was a box, and low and behold…a school ring.  Pictured below, clearly a girl’s ring, two hearts, initials engraved H.A.M., and class of 1968.

Who is H.A.M.?  What school?  How to find you….

I asked friends from other local schools, maybe Merion Mercy, but no.  At first I thought the 2 hearts may be my own alma mater of Sacred Heart, but no, similar logo, but our ring has always been green.

 

 

 

 

 

Class of 1968…11 grades ahead of me, how did I end up with you, must have been sometime in the late 70s as I lived out of the area for years after high school graduation (and truth be told I had not opened those boxes in years and years).

Who is H.A.M.?  What has H.A.M.’s life been like for 50, yes 50, years.

Me and your ring H.A.M..well we have had some adventures…

80’s were a blur of college, move to Florida, gambling with a Rockefeller, partying with Grosse Point Fords, parking cars for Pure Platinum dancers at night, working at a law firm by day, contemplating law school, the Peace Corps, getting married, getting divorced, and ending up in the Army on my 30th birthday..you would have been 40? 41? married? kids? career? all of the above?

Early 90’s were Army, Samoan boyfriend who lived in Alaska, truck driver boyfriend turned into a best friend, sweet boyfriend with many issues..and then heading into 2000’s, finding forever love with a guy disguised as my dear friend’s punky younger brother.  Life’s craziness morphing into a variation of calm.  After the Army, work was corporate, lots of travel, saw all 50 states (with the help of that Samoan boyfriend by way of Alaska I knocked off Alaska and Hawaii in one summer).  You were edging towards 50 H.A.M…did it agree with you?

2000’s… I was flying for work on 9/11, lost a sister to hit and run accident a month later, married said punky younger brother the the following spring and away we went.  No kids, lots of nieces and nephews, and each day a little dance with adventure.

And here we are…egad…2018…

All the while your ring has been along for the ride, sitting in a box I carried with me to apartments and houses over the years, even spending some time in a storage facility (struggled to leave FL, figured if I left everything in storage down there I wasn’t really leaving…oy vey, not so smart).

My goal is to repatriate you two soon, and more so, I hope your years have been a series of adventures big and small and the loss of your ring did not cause any lasting heartache.  Truly have no recollection of how I ended up with this ring, best guess is sometime in the late 70’s, maybe at a fun house in Overbrook that could tell lots of stories.

Time to find its way home.

Be well H.A.M.

Hope to see you along the way.