Weapons of Grass Destruction

Due to the warm weather and heavy rains, here in the South, the lawn wars are a front and center subject most of the time.  I find myself constantly worrying about the lawn and the lawn care equipment.  My Weapons of Grass Destruction get used more than any other tool I have.

One of the things I hate the most about the Lawn Wars is the clean up afterward.  My John Deere mower  is a mulching mower (when it's working) and when I need to, I can put on the grass catcher and bag up the clippings.  Whether I bag them or mulch them, the sidewalks and driveway get a nice even dusting of grass clippings.  Once they dry out, they get tracked into the house and the car.  I try to use a big professional sized push broom to sweep them up after mowing, but the heavy aggregate in my cement driveway keeps them from being swept up easily.  Cue aggravated screaming, cursing and gnashing of teeth.  

I have always wanted a blower to take care of this problem but for one reason or another I never found one at an affordable price at the same time that I had said affordable price to spend.  Until now!   Just a couple of weeks ago, we visited a local thrift store, and there, midst the golf clubs and the expired baby car seats is the beautiful blower you see above. A quick test of the electric motor and for a mere $11.50 (plus tax) it's mine!

At home, the internet tells me that this is the Paramount PB150 Blower, made way back in the early 1980s.  The side you can see there, has a nifty removable grate for cleaning and it shows me that this unit was well cared for. So well, in fact, that it took little to get it ready to use.  

It was only a few days until I could again mow and I was itching to get out the new blower.  After I got the lawn cut, the blower made short work of the grass clippings turning a 45 minute sweeping job into a mere 5 minutes. I was nearly dancing up and down the driveway. Ok, ok...I WAS dancing up and down the driveway. And skipping. Yes, skipping.  So sue me! 

As much as dancing down the driveway while using my new (used) blower may keep me from being considered one of the Good Ol' Boys, I may just do it again next week, too.  Such is life in the South. 

Suthun Thinking - The State Sale

The weather has turned warm (very warm) and the short (very short) 2 weeks spring season has come and gone.  Summer is upon the South and it's time for that most honored of  summer activities, Yard Sale-ing.  My wife and I love to hit the yard sales when we've got a few bucks and are lucky to find yard sales up in our area.  Not a long drive.  Great deals too.  It's a great day when first thing on the weekend we find signs pointing us to those aforementioned yard and garage sales. 

Now, that said, you can imagine my interest when this sign popped up in our neighborhood just the other day.  I asked my wife if she was interested and she said it was so late in the day already that we'd probably only find the leftovers, like New Jersey.  I'll wait while you catch your breath. Yeah, a good joke that.  

One of the things that sets Suthunas aside from other folks is their natural ability to confuse things and yet at the same time make themselves understood.  I mean, it's obvious that no one is selling states.  (Yes, the economy is bad,  but I've not seen any states actually for sale...at least not yet.)  So, you can guess that SOMETHING is for sale, and maybe you ought to swing on by and see what it is. Thus, the sign has done its job. Confusing, yet effective.

Now, let's see, where is this odd State being sold?  The wooden piece at the top appears to be pointing to the right, but the small arrow drawn on the poster points left.  See what I mean? Just enough confusion to get  your interest up. Nicely done, Suh, nicely done.  

What do you suppose you'll find being sold?  Only some old clothes and furniture?  No States?  Ok.  Good thing we checked.  

Next time you're in the South, be sure to bring extra cash and take home a state or two yourself.  And, if you live in New Jersey, or some other left over state...sorry bout that joke there...we's jes' funnin...

I don't know why I wrote that, I don't talk like that.  At all.  Ever.  

Poke Salad or Poke me again and I'll Poke you back.

Last weekend, I was instructed by the wife to go out and cut down a weed.  It was a mighty big weed, too, over 6 foot tall.  As I was headed out, she also informed me that this was a Poke Weed.  Now, immediately my mind went to the 1968 hit song by Tony Joe White "Poke Salad Annie". (Sort of sounds like a party at Facebook - everyone doing POKES!...ok, that joke was rather lame, but let's move on.)  Rather than cut it down and throw it away, I wondered aloud about making us some 'poke salad.'  It's what any good ol' suthun wanna-be like myself would do, right? - The wife laughed at me.

You see, if not prepared properly, Poke Plants are toxic.  I would imagine that all the good ol' boys in the area know this.  So, then, how does one prepare this oddity without killing oneself? The song would suggest that Poke can be prepared to consume, albeit prepared properly being the key.  First, harvest: you want to have young leaves only with little or no purple (yes, purple!).

In the kitchen, cut out the stems and discard. Wash the leaves and boil for about 20 minutes in plenty of water. Pour through a colander and boil again in fresh water for about 10 minutes. Drain it a second time and put it in fresh water to boil for a third time. This time, add any seasonings like onions and garlic, spices, salt, etc. You could also toss in a ham bone or other protein or vegetables as you see fit.  Cook this last time for at least 10 minutes or as long as you need to cook the other ingredients and bingo! You've got a lip smackin' mess of poke grandma would be proud of.

And what does it taste like? I've never had any, so I had to ask around.  According to one source, poke weed has a very strong taste, even after all that boiling.  An acquired taste, I suppose.  Some people love it, while it's a little strong for others. Serve it with cornbread, whose natural sweetness complements the hearty flavor.  (Old timers steep the poke leaves without any seasonings and use it as a tonic.  These tonic users claim that poke tea is the reason for their long life.)

More than a weed or food stuff, Poke also has other uses. In the civil war, soldiers used the purple berries for ink (which is why many old letters you may see from that period appear brown - they were using Poke  Weed Juice!) and as a dye when used alone or with other plants such as pumpkin to produce a rich brown.  The weed grows mostly in the Southern US, from West Virginia to Texas.  

As far as cutting them down, they cut down real easy, I didn't even have to resort to the chain saw.  It's in the wood pile now, but I  have to admit the roots are still out there.  I know I'll see some more of the Poke if we get enough rain.  

I guess I'll be digging those roots up later this year...and now I got that song stuck in my head to boot.

The Cake Pull or Ribbon Pull - A Suthun Tradition?

In my travels and travails, I've unearthed a Southern Tradition which I had no idea even existed. It's called the Cake Pull (no, I'm not speaking of actually pulling a cake, like a tractor pull, let's keep it high class shall we?) The Cake Pull, also known as a Ribbon Pull, is found at the rehearsal dinner, or at the Bridesmaids' lunch, or at the wedding itself right before the cake is cut. (I suppose it really doesn't matter so long as there is cake. There should always be cake! In fact, there is a nice cake in our fridge right now - toffee with a chocolate frosting...but again, I digress...)

Usually there is one ribbon for each bridesmaid but I've seen mention that in some weddings, they invite all the single and unattached ladies in attendance to come up to the cake and take a ribbon found sticking out of the bottom of the cake. (Makes your RSVP just a little more important!) At the same time (a prearranged signal, perhaps a gong, siren or starting pistol), they all pull the ribbons out from under the cake. Each ribbon is attached to a charm and each charm (usually all different) as well as being covered in tasty goodness, has a special meaning for the future. (There is usually one ring among the charms of hot air balloons, rainbows and angels. The ring means that the one who received it will be the next to marry, proving once again the prognostication abilities of baked pastry and butter cream icing. ) Here are a few more charms and their meanings for those taking notes:

Popsicle: Life of sweet surprises
Horseshoe: Good luck will find you
Airplane: Life of travel and adventure
Crown: You'll be treated like a princess
Nail Polish: Enjoy fun nights out
Text Happy Face: Good news soon
Corkscrew: Lots to celebrate
Key: Love holds the key to your heart
Angel: Someone will watch over you
Star: You will always find your way 
Castle: You will live happily ever after
Sunglasses: Life of leisure
Shoe: May you always find one that fits
Mermaid: You are a free spirit
Ship: A Life of Adventure and travel
Saxophone: A Life in harmony

The charms can be silver or gold and after the icing is licked off (can't let all that sweet goodness go to waste) the charms are either kept by the ladies as a nice memento of their participation in the wedding, or are donated to the bride to make a charm bracelet. (That's right, the bride wants a bracelet of charms covered in leftover frosting and bridesmaid saliva. How memorable...)

You'll find this tradition mostly around New Orleans and some in Georgia, but in truth, the tradition has its roots in Victorian England, where the charms were used to advertise the wealth and position of the family giving the wedding. In the months and years after the wedding, each time the charm was shown by the ex-bridesmaid to their friends, there would be stories of the size of the cake, the number of bridesmaids, the food and perhaps even the location. The better the charms (gold being the most admired) the more prestige perceived and the more embellishment by the story teller.

I don't get to many weddings around these parts, but I have to say that I'm a bit upset that there is no alternative for the men. Perhaps a barrel with ropes hanging out of it and each man pulls out the rope, at the end of which is a nice cold non-light beer. (Always Non Light Beer.  Always.) The one who gets the IMPORTED beer would be the next to ...well.... get another beer. (It has been pointed out that the typical Suthun Wedding guest might not be open to IMPORTED beer. I must explain: I speak of Non-Light Beer imported from some exotic location such as Pennsylvania.  Yeah, that's imported!)

Ah. Tradition.

Silver Savior - the Rear View Mirror

Once again we are drawn to the ingenuity of the Southern Inventor and Repairman.  Here is the situation:  We've all been there.  The rear view mirror has come loose.  Now, back when I was a younger man, I would probably have searched high and low for a special glue made to glue the mirror back to the windshield.  I'm sure it exists.  After all, what did they use to stick it up there to begin with?

But the Suthun Man is not so foolish as to waste his time seeking adhesive gels which may or may not exist.  He's already got the 8th wonder of the world right there in the tool box.  That most Silver of Saviours (yes, the European spelling if you please) DUCK TAPE. (I hear some of you out there saying that it should be DUCT tape, but that is just not so.)

Our Suthun Repair Man (woman?  Can there be a Suthun Woman with repair skills of this level?) has taken his roll of Duck Tape and used it to put the mirror back in place.  Since he has no way of securing the mirror to the windshield, he's secured it to the Sun Visors!  Enough to hold it in place...along with a little more to make sure it doesn't hit the GPS device...and  he (or she) is set.

My only question here is what do you do when someone gets in the car who needs to re-position the mirror?    I can only guess that there is a roll of Silver Goodness in the glove box.  All good cars and trucks in the south come so equipped.  Well....they should.

When you need BBQ done PDQ

Recently I went to a catered affair where they served Barbecue Sandwiches.  In fact, that is the very sandwich pictured above.  You can just imagine the stares I got as I whipped out my camera phone and lined up the shot.  One person even asked, "Pray tell, good sir, why dost thou capture this fine sandwich in a photo?"  (Ok, so they may have said this a lot different and with a couple of expletives, but the effect was the same.) 

This, in my untrained opinion, is SOUTHERN Barbecue.  Neighbor Bubba, aka Lord of All Things Barbecue, (not to be confused with brother Bubba, the retired schoolteacher, "Programs! Programs! Get your programs rat-cheer! Can't tell your Bubbas without a program! Sorry, I digress..) tells me that there are several types of barbecue identified by their region.  These include South Carolina, North Carolina, and Memphis just covering the South (There are always others, he says, but not worth mentioning.)  Then you got Kansas City Style, Texas Style and maybe even Western (which covers everything else west of the Mississippi that is not Texas.)

There are mainly two ways in which the meat gets the spice, wet and dry.  Wet uses a sauce and Dry uses a spice rub which is adhered to the outside of the meat before cooking.  Bubba uses a dry rub mixture which he combines under strict secrecy.  And most who use a dry rub, or smoking, also have a sauce much like the aforementioned sandwich, which is squirted on before eating. 

It is no secret on this blog that I am from the West. Colorado to be specific.  I grew up with Barbecue Sauce from a jar (yes, it's a sin, let's not get out the torches and pitchforks just yet) and the sauce was put on the meat as it cooked, giving it a sticky sweet and yet spicy coating. This falls into the Texas or Western style Barbecue and mmmmm my mouth is watering as I write this just thinking about the barbecue I ate growing up.   

But, let's return to the prior plastic plate o' pulled pork properly pictured (alliteration - Brother Bubba the retired English teacher will probably swoon.)  This, to my western eyes is Southern Barbecue. (Yes, neighbor Bubba will most likely hit me with a bag of briquettes, but I don't care!)  In this case, it means a plate of roasted pork which is then pulled off the bone and piled onto a bun. (They also had roasted and pulled turkey that day, but that seemed just wrong.)

The Sauce, a thin spicy mixture, is then poured (or in this case squirted out of a plastic bottle) all over the top of the meat.  I have a hard time with this kind of barbecue. First is, of course, that it is not the barbecue of my youth and my memory glands are complaining that "This is not barbecue...this is just meat and sauce."   My young brain wants sauce cooked on the meat!  But if my youth crazed brain would just step back, it would see that the two are not that much different.  All that is missing is the carmelization of sauce during cooking. I ate the aforementioned sandwich, even though the memory glands were not happy.  And, yes, it was a tasty dish. And yes, I got a lot of stink eye from those around me wondering what I might be up to next.

Unbeknownst to neighbor Bubba  I will most likely continue to cook my barbecue meats with the sauce slathered on it, hoping for that caramelized-and-almost-black-n-crunchy and oh-so-tasty coating that beckons from my youth.  Bubba (both of them) will just have to put up with it.  

Southerners on TV

In recent months, I've begun to take notice of a pattern in the media, most notably television, in which the Southerner is depicted as something altogether different than the normal man. And by 'different', I mean 'STRANGE.'  At first, it would seem interesting to look in to the lives of those who live in The South, but then you see the show and one begins to think "Gee, are ALL southerners like this?"

I'm referencing a group of television shows (REALITY shows) which show a group of Southerners doing things that the rest of us just would not do.  Shows like these:

DUCK DYNASTY:  Though I haven't seen this show, I am able to glean from the commercials that it is about a couple of good ol' boys who turned a love of duck hunting into a million dollar business selling duck calls.  What I get from the commercials is that the guys would rather go duck hunting than run their business. Lots of big beards and hi-jinks ensue.

BAYOU BILLIONAIRE$:  This is the story of a man named Jed, out shootin' for some food, just to keep his family fed...  Oops. Sorry.  In a modern day rags to riches story, Bayou Billionaires tells the story of the Dowdens of Shreveport, La. -- a hardworking family of modest means who recently discovered their home sits on the fourth largest deposit of natural gas in the United States.  And that tag line says it all.  "They were always crazy..."  It seems the crazy antics of southern folks seem to make good television. Hijinks and uncouthery ensue.  (Is uncouthery a word?  Yes, I think it is...)

  

SWAMP PEOPLE:  Though it sounds more like a low budget horror movie, this is a show about a small group of people who make a living out on the swamp hunting one of the most dangerous creatures in North America: alligators.  Using nothing but their bare hands and hooks and high test line, these men - and women - catch hundreds of 'gaters each season (and the season only lasts 30 days!) Most importantly, we meet some really unusual characters, not the least of which are a couple of brothers who look like they just stepped out of that aforementioned low budget horror flick. 

Though all three of these shows take place not just in the south, but in Louisiana; there are others such as "Hillbilly Handfishin'" and a new show called "Coal" which are from other areas of the south.  Though I am in the South (and as we all know, not FROM the south) it seems important to note that though these folks may appear a bit odd (such as the aforementioned brothers) these are the salt of the swamp (so to speak).  Folks for whom the swamp is how they make their living, it is a part of their life. 

There is a lot of the South in these shows, but I caution the viewers to realize that these are not indicative of ALL southerners.  (I haven't caught a gater in...well, ever!)   It's the producers of these shows that want you to see these people and in some regards, hold them up to ridicule.  AND, since I have just read that the producers of Jersey Shore are looking for a bunch of southern rednecks for a NEW reality show about the south, I think we can venture a guess that this is a bit closer to the truth. Apparently Unusual = Good TV.  Strange and Wildly Weird = Great TV. These TV Producers will decide what your view may be of the South or Southern Rednecks or at least what it is on these shows.  TV.  Yeah...

Don't mistake my confusion with disdain for these fine Southern folks, for their traditions or for anyone from The South.  I really have no problems with these people or their shows and my wife and I are regular viewers of Swamp People.  My disdain is set squarely on those aforementioned producers who feel that 'Crazy' and 'Southern' go hand in hand and holding them up for ridicule is merely a way of making money.

I prefer to see these fine folks for the good suthun folks that they are.  Unusual, yes.  Different than the rest of us, most assuredly. I just don't want the rest of the world thinking that these are your regular Suthunaz....like me....or like I'd like to be...Or...oh never mind...