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are the
stone embankments on each side of the creek. Gone are the iron framework
and rails and the stone pillars. A piece of history was destroyed with
that old bridge. Had I realized that at the time, I hope I would have at
least taken some pictures to help remember it better.
Homemade
jelly may be one of the things that are going the way of the old iron
bridge. When I was a kid, homemade jelly was all that we knew. I just
figured that all the moms were making and feeding their families
homemade jelly instead of buying jelly at a store. I thought that all
families could go to the cabinet or pantry and make a selection from
preserves made from muscadines, pears, plums, strawberries, cherries and
figs or apple, grape, blackberry and peach jelly.
It
is my guess that it will soon come to pass, if not already, that a
generation will grow up with the vast majority having never tasting
homemade jelly. Those who have just take it for granted that we will
always be able to. We may be headed for a time that we will have to
visit the Amish to buy homemade jelly and hope they are not buying it at
Piggly Wiggly and putting their label on it.
My
mom still makes homemade jelly. Several years ago it came about that for
my birthday or other occasions calling for a gift that Mom would give me
some of her homemade jellies. I look forward to Sunday mornings when I
have time to sit down and really enjoy breakfast with buttered biscuits
and some of that homemade jelly. My children thought that jelly was not
jelly unless it was grape and store bought. Dustin, my oldest son, would
dig in heartily into Mom’s apple butter. Other than that, this
situation has worked out perfectly for me.
Mom
and her two sisters used to have what they called "Three
Sisters" holiday gift shop near Christmas. They and other friends
would gather their paintings, crafts and mom would bring her jellies,
relishes and peanut brittle. My aunts, uncles and some cousins would buy
jellies and relishes for their own use and for gifts for friends. I’d
be afraid to say how far and into how many states "Margaret’s"
homemade jellies and relishes have gone. I know that cousins from Texas
to Virginia have bought and given to friends living in who-knows-where.
My cousin in Virginia even made labels for Mom’s confections.
In
the fast paced world that we live in, it is no wonder that there is a
decline in making homemade jelly and other such time-consuming tasks.
Convenience is more important to us than quality. There are also hazards
to be considered, especially in gathering wild fruit. I don’t think
you can truly appreciate blackberry jelly or jam unless you have picked
at least a gallon or so sometime in your life. When gathering
blackberries, you have to watch out for snakes, wasp nests, briars from
the vines, chiggers and other dangers, real or imagined.
As
a kid, I had picked blackberries several times and had only gotten the
occasional chigger. Then there was the time that I had a massive,
below-the-belt invasion. I must have been only about seven but I’ll
never forget that and became a firm believer in insect repellant.
Mom
still picks her own blackberries. She will go down into the pasture and
pick out some patches of vines that she wants to pick and tell me where
not to spray or bush-hog until after the berries are gone.
In
the last batch of jelly that Mom gave me, there was a jar of blackberry
jelly labeled "old fashion." My wife and I discussed how it
might be different from the regular and I arrived at the conclusion that
it probably didn’t gel and Mom just labeled it as old fashion.
Sometimes that happens and the jelly has a consistency more like syrup
than jelly.
When
I opened it, I found that that was not the case. Now I have concluded
that Mom has pulled the same trick that Coke did when they changed the
formula, then went back to the old formula and called it Classic. I don’t
know the difference between regular and old fashion, but I know it was
good. Maybe I need a few more pints for testing purposes.
I
hardly qualify as man who has everything, but this reminds me of that
old joke. "What do you give a man who has everything?" My Mom
has the real answer. You don’t give him penicillin, you give him
homemade jelly.
Darrell
Thompson is the Moulton store manager of Lawrence County Exchange. |
