Silken Softness
My mom, Charlotte,
grew up in Iowa.
Council Bluffs, to be exact.
Recession, then Depression
brought the town to its knees,
at least until corn season.
Mom said Grandma Blanche
could make anything
from corn in a skillet:
Corn cakes, corn pone,
corn bread, but the best was
corn alone.
In the field, the poor were
allowed to glean from
Old Man Jones’ field.
Yanking from stalks,
home to shuck the ears.
Corn silk was, for Charlotte,
a miracle, a treasure. She said,
“I hope someday my wedding dress
will be as soft as this corn silk.”
Blanche marveled at
how her girl could always
make magic from simple things.
It’s a Laughlin tradition,
passed from Blanche to Charlotte,
from Charlotte to lucky me.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poets United, my favorite site, asked for food-inspired, home-grown tales. Can’t get more “down home” than this!
Sharp Little Pencil 
booguloo
I didn’t see my favorite.. pop corn.. with mayo dip.. yum yum
Sharp Little Pencil
With mayo dip? Sounds great, but oy, the cholesterol, yikes! My friend Lucky used to dredge his steak fries in mayo, too.
I make up my own special butter-and-garlic sauce for popcorn, so I should NOT throw stones, lol!
Tilly Bud
There is a great deal of warmth in this poem, Amy.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thank you, Linda. I always get that warm and fuzzy thing when writing about Blanche and my mom, even when it’s tougher issues. Appreciate this, hon. Amy
vivienne Blake
“make magic from simple things.” You surely do, Amy. This is a lovely poem, an easy read that brings a smile.
:
Sharp Little Pencil
Viv, I especially enjoyed hearing this from you because you do the same. You weave cobwebs into glittering gossamer. It’s a reason I subscribed to your blog! Thanks, Amy
Laurie Kolp
Amy- I just love this:
Corn cakes, corn pone,
corn bread, but the best was
corn alone
Sharp Little Pencil
Grandma Blanche could make fritters out of dog doo. “Just add a little mustard,” she’d say, “and it all tastes good.” They had a hardscrabble life, but when the farmers stuck to the Old Testament principle of leaving the outermost 10% to give to those without, it sure saved my mom’s life. Thanks, Laurie. Amy
gsb3
Amy, this is a wonderful “home-grown” vegetable story. I’m amazed at how the people work together and share what they have. I wonder if that still happens, or if the “extra” is sold to the highest bidder? Sorry to be so cynical, but I’m from a big city, where that kind of thing would never happen. I was raised in metropolitan Miami, Florida. Now I live in Tallahassee, Florida, which is a much smaller city, and there is some tradition left. Both cities have churches that give to the poor, but it is great to hear of an individual, perhaps a wealthy one, who gives, no matter what.
The resourcefulness with the corn is just as amazing. I live in the south, where there is corn, but not, I suspect, like where you live. We have corn, but you have CORN! Happy cooking, and good eating! Thank you for sharing your story.
Sharp Little Pencil
Yeah, we are pretty corny here, heh heh. Even when I lived in the southern tier of NYS, farmers there regularly “tithed” 10% of their potato, corn, and other harvests to the food bank. We gave fresh produce not only through pantries, but to halfway houses and other places that ran soup kitchens, etc. Some farmers do it following the Old Testament principles or because they follow the Koran, which urges charity above almost everything else.
Blanche could do anything with scraps, with a bone from the butcher. She truly was a miracle worker, I’m proud to say I got some of her “stuff” in me: Playing piano by ear, the ability to talk to anybody about almost anything (except, you know, quantum physics and things like that!), even manic depression. But that’s a story for another day…. Thanks for stopping by! Amy
Ella
Amy,
I loved the magic in your words~ Sad, but those who can still find treasure and see beauty! Yes, a true gift! xXx
Sharp Little Pencil
What a sweet compliment, Ella, thanks so much. It’s those simple things, right? Amy
Jae Rose
Aah, lovely..it’s goodness passed down through the ages..what is a corn pone btw? Jae
Sharp Little Pencil
It’s like corn bread. Cooked in the skillet. Native Americans introduced Europeans to maize, and from there, it was all uphill for the corn… and all downhill for indigenous, generous people! Amy
RJ Clarken
And you do make magic too! ♥
Sharp Little Pencil
Oh, that was Grandma Blanche channeled through me. She’s everywhere I am these days, and I am all the better for it! Thanks, Randi! Amy
Dan Simmons
I like this one.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much, Dan, I appreciate it! Amy
Sherry Blue Sky
Awesome write, I love it!
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much, Sherry. Blanche is near me, I can feel her especially in the hot weather! Amy
Lafemmeroar
This was a delight to read and I felt the love in your words. Nicely done 🙂
Sharp Little Pencil
The love for Iowa, for Grandma Blanche (who could do anything)… glad you could feel it, too! Thanks, CC! Amy
Jess P
This is a great story. Definitely homey and fun.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks, Jess. Once in a great while, it’s not about politics and civil rights and mental illness!! These small victories I indeed cherish! Amy
Eileen O'Neill
Amy,
Great words, example and gifts all passed down.
Best wishes, Eileen
Sharp Little Pencil
Thank you, Eileen. Family history has brought me some great material… and this is one of the clean ones, ha ha. Amy
dani
my mother was raised in Des Moines and my daughter was born there. i miss the corn and tomatoes! i have lots of wonderful recipes of my mother’s which were things her mother made during the depression. i’m grateful that i had the opportunity to sit on a stool in her kitchen watching her cook and writing out the recipes. ♥
Sharp Little Pencil
Oh, yes, the recipes. I have two in my index card box that are in Mom’s handwriting. One is for chocolate cake (the BEST), and the card is smeared with chocolate from when Riley was little and we’d lick the batter while the cake was baking. The other is for a marinated chicken recipe. It blackens the skin beyond recognition (so you won’t eat it!!), but peel back the skin and it’s the moistest, most delicious dish, just off the grill or cold when you sneak to the fridge at midnight! Thanks for sparking a memory, Dani.
Mike Patrick
Wonderful poem of what we are now starting to think of better days. Wasn’t Council Bluffs the start of the Overland or Oregon Trail? Many people began a new life there. Field corn, that’s what we called it, was every bit as good as sweet corn if it was picked at the right time. We used to pick about 60 acres by hand–tear it off the stalk and throw it in a tractor pulled wagon. Talk about your rough hands.
Blanch and Charlotte sound like my mother and all the neighbor ladies near our farm. Hard work, great life.
Sharp Little Pencil
Wow, Mike, I had to Wiki Council Bluffs about the history. Apparently when Lewis and Clark were headed westward, the place they met to speak to local tribes was called Council Bluff. Then it was changed to Kanesville and populated mostly by Mormons. After Mormons moved westward, the town repopulated and they decided to change the name to Council Bluffs. Very cool!
Well, my mom’s family were all dirt poor Irish, and complicating that, Blanche was manic-depressive and so was shipped off to mental hospitals for weeks, sometimes months at a time. My mom had a hard childhood, being one of two kids, her dad drank, she was the only girl, so she had to keep things going when her mom was locked up. Glad your ladies had a better deal. And yes, I have been corn picking! shucking it can be almost as hard on your hands if you’re not patient and only pull a little at a time! Thanks for this, Mike. Amy
Bodhirose
What a nice homey poem, Amy. I love that you are now carrying on the family tradition. I also love the idea of neighbors watching out for neighbors and leaving 10% of the crop for those without. A true blessing–and people really cared.
Sharp Little Pencil
It’s an Old Testament principle as well as one that is carried as a general ethical practice by cultures around the world. When one is able to farm land, there are always people in need nearby, so “gleaning,” or allowing folks to take from the outer ring of the field, is a common practice, even today in many places, sometimes through food pantries. God bless the farmers who remember they are lucky… and to hell with “agri-plexes” that are gobbling up family farms!!! (Ha, had to rant there, sorry) Amy