AUTUMN DAYS
By Frances Stroup
When autumn days remind us that summertime is gone
And the shadows show the sun is on the wane,
It seems so easy to forget that life continues on
As we revel in our strolls down memory lane.
But then I stop to reason that living knows no season,
And realize our numbered days are few,
That’s why I don’t recall if summer skies were gray or blue
But live each lovely autumn day with you.
I received this poem from Mrs. Betty Pennington, and she added these comments, “Here is a poem I’ve had for years, as you can tell. When I found it again, I was thinking of me and my husband Pete. We have been married for 70 years this past February 13. It was Friday the 13th when we were wed, rain had taken off a big snow, the water was high, and the power was off! We were married by car headlights shining into the parsonage windows, and flashlights lit on the mantle. I don’t think Friday the 13th is my unlucky number, do you?”
I think that this a beautiful testimony to a happy marriage that has endured for so many years. It makes me think of our wedding, which will be 63 years this Christmas Eve. Mom predicted that “it will never work with these teenagers,” but we proved her wrong. God has kept us and blessed us, and is still leading our lives. It wasn’t a rainy evening, but very cold and a light snow had fallen.
We, too, were married in a pastor’s home, and there was no traditional white wedding gown in the picture. Instead, it was a charcoal gray dress which flattered my size eleven figure, and Criss wore a sports jacket and gray slacks. Mom quoted an old saying, “Married in black, you’ll wish yourself back!” There may have been a few times when I did (and he probably did too!) but we weathered it through and are living out our autumn years together.
It seems that the younger generation now get married (if they do get married and just not live together) with the thought that if this doesn’t work out, we’ll just get a divorce. All couples need to realize that every marriage is a bond between two people that must be worked out, compromised and strengthened over and over. It is much easier if God is the head of the home and leads the way for each one.
This has been a good year for mushrooms, and our good friends, Bob and Betty, brought us a huge supply of chanterelles. These are choice edibles, and one of my favorites. The first one I ever saw in Mom’s yard, and she identified it for me. The Latin name means a “drinking goblet” and it describes the shape perfectly. They have fluted edges and are shaped like flared wine glasses or vases. There are black chanterelles, and white or gray ones, but the ones we are familiar with are yellow.
I sautéed them in butter and garlic, and as they cook they will raise a lot of juice. After they simmered and the juice evaporated, they can be eaten on toast or a cold biscuit—they are delicious any way you eat them. They were such a large amount that I sautéed them, cooled them and put them in small zip-lock bags in the freezer. They can be incorporated in lots of dishes this winter. This is the way my mushroom guide said to preserve them. Some mushrooms can be dried for later use, but this method was recommended.
Andy brought in a huge sulphur shelf, or chicken mushroom, that had to be shared. It really does taste like chicken and can be used in chicken recipes. My mushroom book says that they are best creamed, as they need thin slicing and slow cooking. The next one that I get, I aim to try this recipe.
CREAMED SULPHUR SHELF
Slice about one quart of sulphur shelf fungi thinly, and saute in butter and a bit of smashed garlic for 10 minutes. Make a cream sauce using two tablespoons of flour, two tablespoons of butter, and two tablespoons of cream. Add enough dry sherry or milk (or a combination of both) for the consistency you like. Add salt and pepper to taste. This is great served on toast, rice, or pasta, or alone. Sounds good to me!
Today is the 28th reunion of the Hagar Grade School alumni, and although we are getting fewer in number, we still love to meet and renew old acquaintances. We meet with old neighbors, and friends from other communities, along with anyone who wants to attend. The old school is gone, but we meet at the Bethel Methodist Church Fellowship Hall at Ovapa, which is located right below where the schoolhouse stood. Hope to see you there!
There is laughter, conversation and a few tears as we meet together again. Many past school memories are recollected and shared again, as we remember those who have gone on before us. It’s hard to believe that my own father once went to Hagar Grade School when he was a lad. If I remember correctly, it was a log building at that time. I wonder how many years the schoolhouse stood.
It’s hard to believe that so many years have passed since I once spent my girlhood days inside those two rooms. At that time, there were four grades in the little room, and four grades in the “big” room. So many that I went to school with are gone now, and only the memory of them still live in my mind. I miss them so much! Still—time goes on and sweeps us along with it. The most important thing in my life is to live as God wants me to, and be ready to meet Him when he calls me home. That should be the desire of all of us.
WALK SLOWLY
By Adelaide Love
If you should go before me, dear, walk slowly
Down the ways of death, well-worn and wide,
For I would want to overtake you quickly
And seek the journey’s ending by your side.
I would be so forlorn not to descry you
Down some shining highroad when I came;
Walk slowly, dear, and often look behind you
And pause to hear if someone calls your name.
