I know weines. The original Wahoo, NE, weiners were cherished and shipped all over the world. The casings were a thin gut and tender. The meat was seasoned just right. They were great in a bun, sliced and fried with potatoes, chopped into scrambled eggs and eaten cold. When the owners sold out, the new casings were tough, and the meat recipe wasn't the same.
Preparing for Mississippi's hunting season, I scoured the Kroeger hotdog section and was surprised to find Oscar Mayer's "SELECTS ANGUS BUN LENGTH SMOKED UNCURED ANGUS BEEF FRANKS". We're talking "PREMIUM ANGUS". A high quality of beef makes me think they want us to have the World's Best Hotdog! Get this: THERE ARE NO NITRATES OR NITRITES, except those occurring naturally in celery juice. There are NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVORS, COLORS, FILLERS OR BY-PRODUCTS. This is The Holy Grail of Hotdogs!
During hunting season, our four-foot wide fire pit burns wood nonstop. Hunters stop at any hour to update the wild hog kill, bucks and does taken, have a drink and tell lies. They might have a bowl of fresh neckbone stew cooked with a variety of vegetables, smoked sausage sections cooked on the grill, or hotdogs. They are a resourceful bunch heating hotdogs on a stretched out clothes hanger. But I was lost when it came to warming the buns. The guys threw a long branch over the pit. One of the men opened a hotdog bun and rested it around a small branch. Voila! It toasted. From a four-year old to grandpas, the hotdogs were a hit. Thank you Oscar Mayer! Visit them at oscarmayer.com
2012 Red Convertible Travel Series
Showing posts with label NE. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NE. Show all posts
Monday, November 26, 2012
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
News for the blind.
You didn’t expect pictures, did you?
I caught up with Connie on her phone when she was out for a Saturday afternoon walk. Huffing and puffing just a little, she proceeded to tell me where she was and what she saw. “I’m over by the old grade school, North Ward.”
I know it, my mother taught there. It’s been leveled and so has West Ward.
“Now I’m walking down Richard Vybiral’s old alley, old because he doesn’t live there anymore and convenient because it’s paved.”
His mother and mine were friends in school. The longer we live here, the longer it takes to introduce someone.
“I’m walking down Linden. A new sign is going up. Soon as I can see it, I’ll read it to you: ‘Ryan’s Repair and Automotive Service; Scott’s Tree Service’. The guys are laughing at me. I’m reporting the news.”
I only know of one individual who put their car in the top of a tree and lived to tell about it. Prague. Saturday night. The guys had no idea where they were, until daylight and the first step.
“Somebody just drove by and gave me a one fingered wave―index finger.”
They’re too tired to wave them all.
“Wahoo State Bank’s time is 2:36 pm. The bank is closed, so is Lucille’s. I think the only businesses open are the Warehouse, Dollar General, The Chinese Restaurant and a bar.”
It isn't like Saturdays past when families came to town to shop until 11 pm and trade eggs and cream for flour and sugar.
“The wind’s coming up and dark clouds are rolling in. I need to get home so I can cleanup and get to the Museum’s Barbecue. See you there.”
The menu is barbecued pork sandwiches, baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and if we have room, Donald Proett’s brownie sundae with ice cream made on the spot.
And that’s the news from Wahoo, the one and only.
©2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
I caught up with Connie on her phone when she was out for a Saturday afternoon walk. Huffing and puffing just a little, she proceeded to tell me where she was and what she saw. “I’m over by the old grade school, North Ward.”
I know it, my mother taught there. It’s been leveled and so has West Ward.
“Now I’m walking down Richard Vybiral’s old alley, old because he doesn’t live there anymore and convenient because it’s paved.”
His mother and mine were friends in school. The longer we live here, the longer it takes to introduce someone.
“I’m walking down Linden. A new sign is going up. Soon as I can see it, I’ll read it to you: ‘Ryan’s Repair and Automotive Service; Scott’s Tree Service’. The guys are laughing at me. I’m reporting the news.”
I only know of one individual who put their car in the top of a tree and lived to tell about it. Prague. Saturday night. The guys had no idea where they were, until daylight and the first step.
“Somebody just drove by and gave me a one fingered wave―index finger.”
They’re too tired to wave them all.
“Wahoo State Bank’s time is 2:36 pm. The bank is closed, so is Lucille’s. I think the only businesses open are the Warehouse, Dollar General, The Chinese Restaurant and a bar.”
It isn't like Saturdays past when families came to town to shop until 11 pm and trade eggs and cream for flour and sugar.
“The wind’s coming up and dark clouds are rolling in. I need to get home so I can cleanup and get to the Museum’s Barbecue. See you there.”
The menu is barbecued pork sandwiches, baked beans, coleslaw, potato salad, and if we have room, Donald Proett’s brownie sundae with ice cream made on the spot.
And that’s the news from Wahoo, the one and only.
©2010 Red Convertible Travel Series
Sunday, June 14, 2009
From the Deep South to the Midwest and back
I returned to the soggy South yesterday after a 2,000 mile journey to the Midwest and back. Wahoo lawns were dry as late July. If it had rained as much as in TN, I would have filled a four yard dumpster with landscaping weeds. Sprinklers are great, but not the same as Mother Nature's magic. Grass seed responded; it sprouted.
Alabama peaches rode north and rhubarb south. I will chop and cook it down sweetened with the organic cane sugar Sucanat.
Ryker and Aja came for welcome hugs. He said, "Work is so much fun, what can we do?" They cut the suckers off the crabapple stump and were paid in fresh pineapple.
We celebrated Aja's 6th birthday by making chocolate chip, oatmeal cookies and drinking lukewarm green tea from French demitasse cups. She called her mother and asked, "Would you care to join us?" Of course my camera battery was dead. Our afternoon is burned into my heart.
Seven-year-old Eli came to the door and asked, "Can you come play "Monkey in the Middle" with Aunt Shelly and me? How often do you get an invitation like that? I went out and threw the ball over the one in the middle. Close to noon Eli asked if I'd like to go to Burger King with them. Sure.
Sarah, 6, came and asked if she could wash dishes. Glad to have her. Payment was a banana. Such comings and goings. I love that the kids want to come.
Jani got a purple cast on her left arm, and she isn't old enough to wear purple. I suspect it is well decorated by now.
My high school class had a meeting to discuss next year's reunion. We expected three or four. Twelve showed up. We are kinder than in high school. Life has knocked us all around a plenty.
It is strengthening and comforting being on home plate. I talked with everyone I needed to, saw old friends and was properly hugged up. Many pleasant memories were made and others maintained. I'll be back in August. Don't know why yet, but I know I have to come back. Time will tell.
On my 885 miles in one day return trip, I noticed cars abandoned by the side of the road. Know how to tell? No license plate. Poor lonely, lost, forgotten, or stolen cars wait, wait for someone to see some worth in them and haul them off to rest among more of the same. Maybe a radiator or tire will be a transplant. Nature wastes nothing. An empty vehicle is open season for rodents, snakes, homeless people and animals.
Passing at 70 mph I caught a glimpse of a maroon Chevy with it's right front tire missing. A lanky jack held up the right axle like a long-legged, boney dog. Did you know a gray hound isn't necessarily a greyhound.
My car's air-conditioner faded out. The fan cooled the air a couple of degrees reminding me of my empty bottle of Nantucket Rain perfume.
Large perfectly round bales lay scattered in a hayfield. Some stood on end, bow and arrow target practice style. Others lay flat. I see a checkerboard in the making. It would take a forklift to make a king.
Tennessee, Kentucky and Missouri grow rocks, trees and water. Water has to come from somewhere, why not grow it?
Fifteen hours of driving brought me to Fayetteville in time to have Chinese food with JB. Back to the point of my other life in Tennessee.
2009 Red Convertible Travel Series
Alabama peaches rode north and rhubarb south. I will chop and cook it down sweetened with the organic cane sugar Sucanat.
Ryker and Aja came for welcome hugs. He said, "Work is so much fun, what can we do?" They cut the suckers off the crabapple stump and were paid in fresh pineapple.
We celebrated Aja's 6th birthday by making chocolate chip, oatmeal cookies and drinking lukewarm green tea from French demitasse cups. She called her mother and asked, "Would you care to join us?" Of course my camera battery was dead. Our afternoon is burned into my heart.
Seven-year-old Eli came to the door and asked, "Can you come play "Monkey in the Middle" with Aunt Shelly and me? How often do you get an invitation like that? I went out and threw the ball over the one in the middle. Close to noon Eli asked if I'd like to go to Burger King with them. Sure.
Sarah, 6, came and asked if she could wash dishes. Glad to have her. Payment was a banana. Such comings and goings. I love that the kids want to come.
Jani got a purple cast on her left arm, and she isn't old enough to wear purple. I suspect it is well decorated by now.
My high school class had a meeting to discuss next year's reunion. We expected three or four. Twelve showed up. We are kinder than in high school. Life has knocked us all around a plenty.
It is strengthening and comforting being on home plate. I talked with everyone I needed to, saw old friends and was properly hugged up. Many pleasant memories were made and others maintained. I'll be back in August. Don't know why yet, but I know I have to come back. Time will tell.
On my 885 miles in one day return trip, I noticed cars abandoned by the side of the road. Know how to tell? No license plate. Poor lonely, lost, forgotten, or stolen cars wait, wait for someone to see some worth in them and haul them off to rest among more of the same. Maybe a radiator or tire will be a transplant. Nature wastes nothing. An empty vehicle is open season for rodents, snakes, homeless people and animals.
Passing at 70 mph I caught a glimpse of a maroon Chevy with it's right front tire missing. A lanky jack held up the right axle like a long-legged, boney dog. Did you know a gray hound isn't necessarily a greyhound.
My car's air-conditioner faded out. The fan cooled the air a couple of degrees reminding me of my empty bottle of Nantucket Rain perfume.
Large perfectly round bales lay scattered in a hayfield. Some stood on end, bow and arrow target practice style. Others lay flat. I see a checkerboard in the making. It would take a forklift to make a king.
Tennessee, Kentucky and Missouri grow rocks, trees and water. Water has to come from somewhere, why not grow it?
Fifteen hours of driving brought me to Fayetteville in time to have Chinese food with JB. Back to the point of my other life in Tennessee.
2009 Red Convertible Travel Series
Monday, May 28, 2007
Remembering
MSN photo
Memorial Day: the day set aside to remember those who fought and died for freedom; those who fought and survived; those who sacrificed to support them; and family and friends who died unrelated to wars. Thank you all for your contribution to life.
We hang our flag and remember receiving one when Papa died. He did his time in the Pacific Theatre of WWII. For the past two weeks JB has been a patient at the VA hospital in Omaha, NE. He's amazed the operating surgeons visit him everyday. Dedicated staff, they live and breathe their work. Over all, it's been a positive experience. We are grateful. God Bless them.
copyright 2007 Red Convertible Travel Series
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