Sunday, January 27, 2013

January 26, 2013 An Opossum Named Blessed Assurance

There is a little Opossum who comes to my kitchen door in the night to eat the leftover cat food.  If I am in the kitchen and the outside motion sensor light goes on, I can watch him (her) from the door window just inches under my nose.  This Opossum has alot  of white spots on his back and pays no attention to me whatsoever as he very slowly crunches the cat food. I have no idea why I named him (her) "Blessed Assurance".
Today Boofa raised up another little Opossum on the trail.  This Opossum was strangely difficult to run off
as he had something he was determined to eat.

Was it an Opossum or a possum?  It was an Opossum, from the Algonquin word for the critter. They live in North America.
Possums live in and are native to Australia.  They were named by Captain Cook's botanist who thought the little animals looked like Opossums.  The two animals are different, however.  Both are marsupials but are of different orders.  Opossums have bare tails and possums have bushy tails.

Many Opossums are out in the dark and get run over by cars.  I have a theory that driving distance can be calculated in terms of the number of Opossums lying dead on the road.  There is approximately one Opossum per 40 miles of road (this refers especially to back roads; the Interstates have fewer, perhaps, one every 100 miles).  So, a three Opossum trip is about 120 miles.  I am working on a theory that includes dead raccoons and dead deer as well.

Cooking an Opossum:

Catch an Opossum.  I have learned that a good way is to set out traps for feral cats.  You might get cats, but more likely you will get Opossums.  The next step is to get the Opossum out of the trap which may be tricky.
Here is how my cousin caught an Opossum:

" Corner the 'possum.  Attach a rope with a noose on a stick and loop around the creature's neck.  Pull tight
(do not kill the 'possum) and drag outside (if it is in your house) and release into the wild. 'Possum will appear stunned for a short time."

Recipe for Opossum Supreme

Cut off the head and feet and take out the internal organs and gut.  Scald the critter to take off the skin.
Chop into pieces.  Wash.  Place in glass container and cover with the following marinade:

1 med onion, sliced
4 whole cloves
4 peppercorns
1 bay leaf
1/2 tsp mace
1 cup dry red wine
1 cup water
Marinate in refrigerator overnight, turning several times
Remove meat from marinade and pat dry. Season with salt and pepper and sprinkle with flour.
Brown on all sides in butter in heavy skillet. Strain marinade and add to Opossum.  Cover and simmer about 45 minutes until tender.  Good with rice or hot grits.

Monday, January 21, 2013

January 20, 2013 The Frogs Are Singing

They are singing "mountain high" again in the wet places of the Cottonwood trail.  It is much too early.
Henry David Thoreau noted the dates of the blooming of plants so many years ago and now they are blooming at least eleven days earlier. Scientists believe that the pollenating  creatures may not be ready as early as the blooms.  I think the frogs are singing as much as five weeks earlier.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

January 19, 2013 Ashes to Ashes/The Blessing of the Waters

Pink and fuchsia Japanese magnolia trees are blooming in winter. The yellow blossoms of Carolina Jasmine twine on a fence near the cemetery at Elmwood where Flora, the piano partner of my childhood is being put to  rest.  She was a beautiful short, round little girl with long flaxen hair cascading down her back, a talented and manic pianist.  We were paired by Jumpy, our music teacher, to play duos and duets every year in the State Music Festivals.  Flora played the treble part and I played the accompanying part. Flora was the prima donna, there was no question about that.  I can remember those plump little fingers flying over the keys.

Russian Orthodox priests and prelates in gold and garnet robes are down by the Gervais  Street Bridge performing the Theophany, the Blessing of the Waters.  I walk up and over and across the bridge to watch the muddy, full Congaree rushing below, full to overflow from the rains coming down from the mountains and upstate.  The river is so full that DNR and police are present on the banks and walkers and runners are turned back down the riverwalk where the waters have risen many feet and flooded the crossings.
Two girls sit on top of a picnic table partially submerged.  Turning back, I meet James' pregnant preschool teacher starting out.  A little boy on a bike stops to tell us about his dog's one bent ear.

The river rushes on, tumbling and swirling, sparkling, deep and mysterious.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

January 15, 2013 Halcyon Days

Traditionally, those are the days seven days before and seven days after the winter solstice and here they were in Columbia, balmy and calm, filled with peace, temperatures in the high 70's. The day before I took James for ice cream and this morning I walked the Old Shandon neighborhood of cozy cottages, porches filled with rattan furniture, a park with a large brown dog dozing on top of a picnic table. students in shorts and backpacks going to class.  I am a student again in Williamsburg, carrying an armload of books and notebooks, even a newspaper to the garden of the Governor's Palace in the never ending Spring, full of tulips, jonquils, fragrant boxwoods.  Sometimes I rode the Colonial Williamsburg bus driven by the boy who sat next to me in history class, where a professor emeritus read his famous lectures from his yellowed notes. I took Zack and Shane for ice cream today. Zack always asks for ice cream and I told him we would go on a special day.  Today was the special day.

In the evening I drove home to Spartanburg where it was raining, cold and dark.  Tomorrow, there will be up to eight inches of snow in the mountains and we may have a smattering as well.

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

January 13, Sylvan Road

Cool, rainy and gray in this old neighborhood, full of history, charm, elegance and comfort.  A few of the houses still bravely sport their Christmas decorations, wreaths, even lights, but most are gone.  Dying poinsettias are tossed on the curb with empty Christmas present boxes.

I pass the house where Don B. lived before ending his life by driving his car into a highway overpass.  He was taken by EMS to the emergency room of the hospital where his wife, a nurse, was working on the floor above.  I came from my town where I lived then to this house to help Lois sort out his clothes and I remember the little landing with a window at the top of the stairs and the big closet around the corner

And later on, I attended Lois' wedding to the assistant minister of her church, a man who had dated a girlfriend for years until Lois came along and knocked him off his feet.  Lois had bought the wedding dress long before they planned the wedding.  The recessional was the Hallelujah chorus from the Messiah.
They bought a new house in a new neighborhood.  The last I heard from them, was a mass mailing about burning books on Halloween.

I walk on past the happy dog walkers, the diligent ever running runners, the church goers closing their car doors, the robe wearers scooping up their plastic bagged newspapers.  There are church bells ringing.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

January 8, 2013 This Is It, The Muscovy Duck

I had just walked the Columbia Canal trail and was on my way to pick up Shane from his preschool when I heard Patrick McMillan and another naturalist from Clemson on the radio taking questions about birds.
I called and asked about the black and white speckled, red wattled duck at Glendale Shoals.

"I have a personal relationship with those ducks," said the naturalist.  He had gone to Wofford and met the ducks near the Goodal Envionmental Center where I have met them.  These Muscovy ducks (cairina moshata) are native to Mexico and the Amazon and are seen in lower Texas.  They were wild ducks bred  and domesticated by the ancient  Mayans in pre Columbian times.

The Russian sounding name may have come from a trading company called The Company of Merchant Adventurers to New Lands whose nickname was the Muscovy Company. Or the name could have derived from Miskito, the name of a native tribe in Nicaragua and Honduras.  At any rate, they are not Russian.  They are also not Kosher in the US, but they are kosher in Israel and if they are cooked and served in restaurants, they are called Barbary Duck.  They are said to have a very gamey flavor.

Now that I know the name, I looked them up and have seen pictures of the feral chocolate and white female Moscovy duck.  I have seen several of these with the black ducks.  A variation of chocolate and white is lavender and white.  The ones at Glendale Shoals have pink bills, but they can have red or yellow.  The mystery is solved.

Brandied Barbary Duck Breasts

1/2 cup butter
1/3 cup brandy
1/3 cup white wine
4 Tblsp currant jully
1 Tblsp Worcestershire sauce
4 Barbary duck breasts halved
3 cups cooked wild rice (one cup uncooked)
2 Tblsp cornstarch
2 Tblsp water

In skillet with a lid, melt butter; stir in brandy, wine, jelly and Worcestershire. Bring mixture to a boil, stirring to dissolve jelly. Add duck breasts. Cover and reduce heat to low. Simmer breasts 20-30 minutes or until fork tender, turning once.  Place wild rice on serving platter, top with duck breasts; cover and keep warm. Blend cornstarch and water until smooth.  Combine with brandy liquid in skillet.  Stir and cook over low heat until sauce thickens. Spoon sauce over duck and rice.

With apologies to "Simply Simpatico" a Taste of New Mexico from the Junior League of Albuquerque, a very old copy without a date, but with fantastic recipes.

Monday, January 7, 2013

January 6, 2013 Those Ducks are Back

John, Colleen and James came for the weekend and we went down to walk at Glendale Shoals and hoped to see the ducks.  There they were.  First, we saw the big black duck with red bill and white and black speckles.  James started throwing cheerios to him and soon there were two big white ducks with light brown markings and pink bills enjoying the cereal.

Farther down the Lawson's Fork Creek, there was another large black duck accompanied by a normal garden variety white duck.  We did not see the ducklings.

Colleen took photos and will ask her father and brother what they are.  They know all of the ducks and can even identify them by their calls.  James got a duck call for Christmas.

Wednesday, January 2, 2013

January 1, 2013 Oh, Do Da Day

Rain all night. Rain all day.
We walked anyway as it let up at dawn.  A 2/5/10 mile run/walk for the Cancer Center was weaving in and out, groups of black and yellow, green and orange neon clad runners calling out "Happy New Year" as they passed by.

The camptown ladies sing this song
Doo da, Doo da.
Camptown's racetrack's 5 miles long
Oh doo da day.

Going to rain all night
Going to rain all day
I bet my money on a bob tailed nag
Somebody bet on the bay.

Great Uncle Charlie (Charles Baer) wrote songs of this era like Stephen Foster.  I have a box of his sheet music.  His sister, Florence, collaborated but got no credit.  His wife died in childbirth and his son, Charles,
died of spial meningitis at age 18.

I remember the big breakfast table being set with white cloth and at Uncle Charlie's place, there was a steaming bowl of oatmeal, with a glass of orange juice and a jigger of whiskey alongside.

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

December 31, 2012 Auld Lang Syne

I met a man walking the trail bravely with a cane in each hand, moving along slowly but with determination.
We talked.  I said, "I do Tai Chi, before I walk".
He said, "On my left side, I have rods and pins.  I was in a bad car wreck in 2010.  That side doesn't hurt.
It's the other side, my right side, and the arthritis in it."
We said that the years were numbering up.
"You know what that means", he said.
"What does it mean?" I said.
"We're going to leave here." he said.
"But not yet," I said.
"Not yet", he said.

"We twa hae run about the braes
and pu'd the gowans fine
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit
sin auld lang syne."

Homeward bound, I drove over the Lawson's Fork and there below me in the pooled water before the spillway, was the black duck, the white duck and four or five white speckled ducklings paddling along behind them.