Beef Neck Bone Soup in cold MS

We've been in the single digits with occasional ice, but our pipes didn't freeze. Our hearts go out to those in the extremes. Does a cold winter set the stage for a hot summer, or is that an old wive's tale?

After the F2 twisted over our house raking up the shingles and laying them down 12/21/13, we noticed our backyard pecan tree was leaning toward the middle of our house, back to front. We are grateful gravity, a sneeze, a feather-weight bird, or a feather, did not fell it, the trimmer did.

After three Deep Southern summers, I understand the need for an outside kitchen or a least a grill. The upside to cold weather is soup. It's twice blessing: when cooked and when eaten. Our Kroeger's is revamping their produce section with more variety, bright lights and mirrors. It reminds me of Whole Foods on a smaller scale. Eat the Rainbow!

The price of a roast was over the moon. I bought neck bones I browned on all sides before putting in the crockpot. The rest of my recipe was by the seat of my pants.

Saute one or more sliced onions
         chopped garlic
         sliced fresh mushrooms
Pour over the roast

Add  1 cup of red wine
         2 cups of beef broth
               
         I didn't add veggies until the meat was near tender.
        Add  more broth if you like.

I cut up fresh green and yellow peppers, zucchini and yellow squash circles, sliced carrots and parsnips, chopped turnips and rutabaga, unpeeled potatoes, and frozen sweet corn. It smelled so good cooking and tasted wonderful!

Happy Soup Saturday to you!

Love,
Maeann

2014 Red Convertible Travel Series

Paula Dean

I've been living in the Deep South for three years. To my surprise, I have witnessed the African-American population call each other by the forbidden "n" word. Where do whites line up to complain about being called "Honky and Georgia Cracker"?

2013 Red Convertible Travel Series

The Help on the carpet

Author Kathryn Stockett exposed a Deep South way of life that sixty agents rejected. I am grateful the sixty-first saw her work's value and had the courage to do something about it. I caught up with the movie at our local library expecting the pull down screen to be the object of projection. Wrong. It was projected on the carpeted wall behind it for a larger picture.

Prejudice was not limited to the Deep South. In the Midwest, we had religious prejudice. In the 60's an African-American engineer came to our area to work for General Dynamics. It was the first time I witnessed racial prejudice.

I compared my Midwestern culture with the Deep South. Where I grew up, we were 'the help' with an outside bathroom, too. Ours was a two-seater outhouse. Jani and I learned to garden, cook and preserve our food, tend the chickens, hogs, cattle and occasional lamb, sew, entertain, write thank you notes and more. We never had a sitter or a nanny. When Mom and Dad had to go somewhere, we stayed with Grandpa and Grandma and Aunt Bobbe.

We watched Mom do it all in the house and the garden and train us to do the same. She helped Dad move livestock and kept the hogs back when he drove the tractor in with a load of corn. We sure could have used 'help', but it wasn't an option. Neighbor helped neighbor, but not on a daily basis.

We were self-contained. We grew our own food, and Mom and Dad did our comforting, guiding and inspiring. We knew we were loved. She belonged to Seven-O-Sals extension club that met monthly for practical household tips and homemade cake the hostess took great care preparing. At home chocolate with chocolate frosting was Jani's and my favorite. Mom's favorite was angelfood with strawberries and whipped cream. She knew exactly how many cobs to put in the cookstove to bake a perfect angelfood. Couples played Pinochle and Canasta and Square Danced.

Our lives were full and complete. We always had 'enough'. Extended family helped harvest the garden, clean chickens, and came in emergencies. One summer Saturday Mom knew something was up when three-year old Janis asked for soap and water. Mom searched and discovered she had dipped the black and white kittens in tan (ugly to me) porch paint. By the time Grandpa arrived, the kittens were stiff. He and Mom worked the rest of the day cleaning them off with paint thinner. They all survived.

Without hired help, willing neighbors were a treasure. They helped each other put up hay, harvest, and do what ever was needed. We were a tight-knit, small community that revolved around a country school.

Every community has its own culture. I enjoy learning what's held sacred, how they worship, care for one another, what works and what doesn't. Learning about our differences leads to understanding, tolerance and peace. Whatever works.

Goodnight y'all.

2012 Red Convertible Travel Series