"BE IT EVER SO HUMBLE, THERE'S NO PLACE LIKE HOME"

Few songs in American history have touched the people as much as the old favorite, "Home, Sweet Home." From it's composition in 1822, the first four lines of the song have etched themselves on the hearts of succeeding generations of Americans:

"Mid pleasures and palaces,

Though we may roam;

Be it ever so humble,

There's no place like home."

There is, perhaps, no other earthly word, besides "mother" that is more meaningful to us than the word "home." Home speaks to us of security, privacy, quietness, serenity, warmth, coziness, rest, love, relaxation, fun, good food and countless other joys.

Home is where you go at the end of a hard day--maybe vent a little, take off your shoes, sit in your easy chair, and relax with a glass of iced tea, a good book, or maybe a crossword puzzle...often with some quiet music for relaxation. Or you may enjoy sitting on the back porch on a summer's day, semi-dozing, or watching the birds eat from their feeder. Others may want to dig in the flower bed, smelling the freshly turned earth.

Home is the place where brand new sons and daughters are brought from the hospital-- to crawl on the floor, toddle, walk, start to school, and finally grow up. All the wonderful values and meanings of life are tied up with the experiences of home, beginning with a loving young couple, standing at the altar to start a NEW HOME. The love of parents, children, brothers, and sisters, all stem from that couple.

Many will remember their childhood homes where they grew up. Or even remember grandmother's old farmhouse on a cold frosty morning, with the woodstove going in the kitchen, and the smells of coffee, bacon, eggs, ham, sausage, and pancakes wafting through the house.

During the Civil War, "Home, Sweet Home" was the favorite of both Northern and Southern armies (with "Lorena," the Civil War sweetheart song being a close second.) There was no night fighting in that war and the armies often camped near each other.  The regimental bands of both sides would play "Home Sweet Home," often together.  The troops would sing along, the nostalgic words and melody touching their homesick hearts.  Some reports say that the song caused desertions; others say that it strengthened the soldiers' resolve to fight for their cause. 

In 1862, President Abraham Lincoln and his wife, Mary, invited the Italian singer, Adelina Patti, to sing at the White House.  The Lincolns were mourning the loss of their young son, Willie, who had died of typhoid fever.  At the end of the program, she asked if they had any requests.  The weeping president asked for "Home, Sweet Home."   (Alas, we know he was never to see his Springfield home again.)

The music to "Home, Sweet Home," was written by an Englishman, Sir Henry Rawley Bishop, (1786-1855). Sir Henry, who wrote many operas, and other works, wrote the song as a part of the opera "CLARI."  The words were written by the American, John Howard Payne (1791-1852.) It was always enormously popular, particularly in America, and continues to be today after almost 200 years.

The entire text by Payne is quoted here:

"Mid pleasures and palaces, though we may roam,

Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,

Which, seek thro' the world is ne'er met with elsewhere.

An exile from home, splendor dazzled in vain,

Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again;

The birds singing gaily that come at my call;

Give me then with the peace of mind, dearer than all.

Refrain:

Home! home! sweet, sweet home!

There's no place like home,

There's no place like home.

Someone has said: "There's nothing any better in this world than to return home from a long trip." Mil's saying: "The only thing better than that, is to STAY AT HOME." (Mil traveled much in his early life.)
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"Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in." 

 Robert Frost

"Home, the spot of earth supremely blest - a dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest."

Robert Montgomery

"A house that does not have one warm, comfy chair is soulless."

Mary Sarton

"I'd rather be on my farm than be emperor of the world." 

George Washington

"Where we love is home, home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts."

Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. from "Homesick in Heaven."

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Deanna Durbin:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=eB7PVkf-37g

 Kiri Te Kanawa:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=7R67rji5aTI

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By Mil, 2-26-12

Sent from my iPad

"SOFTLY AND TENDERLY JESUS IS CALLING"

When the great preacher Dwight L. Moody lay on his death-bed in Northfield, Massachusetts, many years ago, Will Thompson, hymn writer and friend,  came to visit him. Taking the Ohio musician by the hand, Moody said: "Will, I would rather have written 'Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling' than anything I have been able to do in my whole life."

This gospel hymn was the theme song for the Academy Award-winning movie "The Trip to Bountiful," 1985. It was also used in the memorial service for Dr. Martin Luther King, at the Ebenezer Baptist Church, Atlanta, Georgia, April 4, 1968. It has been in the movie "Junebug," "A Prairie Home Companion," (sung by Meryl Streep and Lily Tomlin), in the Anne Tyler novel, "The Accidental Tourist," and the TV series "True Blood."

In my many years of serving as a minister of music, and directing the music for 63 revivals and countless Sunday services, I have led "Softly and Tenderly" dozens of times. It was always one of my favorites--and one of the most touching of all the gospel hymns. It is a message that speaks to us of God's great love for us, calling us to repentance, to ask for forgiveness, and to "come home" to the eternal bosom of God.

"Softly and Tenderly" is rated high on the list of favorite hymns of Americans, along with "The Old Rugged Cross", "Amazing Grace" and "How Great Thou Art".

The writer of the hymn, William L. Thompson, was an American composer, most-noted for this hymn, "Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling," said to have been translated into more languages than any other. He studied at the New England Conservatory of Music and also in Germany. He eventually owned the famous and prosperous  W.L. Thompson Music Company in East Liverpool, Ohio, which earned him a good living.  He was always known as a kind, quiet and unassuming gentleman, greatly loved by all.

Thompson is also known for writing "Jesus Is All the World to Me" and "Lead Me Gently Home, Father". 

The words to his fine gospel hymn are quoted here:

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals he's waiting and watching,
Watching for you, and for me.

Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me;
Why should we linger and heed not his mercies,
Mercies for you and for me.

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me;
Shadows are gathering, deathbeds are coming,
Coming for you and for me.

Oh! for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me;
Tho' we have sinned He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me.

Refrain:
Come home, come home.
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home.

Mark 10: 49, "He calleth thee."

The following clip is the closing scene from  "The Trip to Bountiful".   The song is sung by Cynthia Clawson.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=fAdn7ZSzVWw

Here is a link to two clips: one from the movie "Junebug", and one of the opening credits from "The Trip to Bountiful", in which Cynthia Clawson is singing the song with a different melody:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=xMNM1MO2Q8I

By Mil, 2-21-12


Sent from my iPad

PEANUT BUTTER! THAT WONDERFUL MIRACLE!!

Who among us would have made it this far in life without PEANUT BUTTER? In fact, how could we have survived childhood?

Let us picture a lazy, summer afternoon, about 1943, in my hometown of Clovis, N.M.  School was out and it felt like summer (and life) would last forever as time seemed to feel when you were a kid. Just about every house in our neighborhood--both sides of the street--had kids in the family--except one--three houses down the street from ours was the rented home of Priscilla Lane, the Hollywood movie star, whose captain-husband was stationed at Clovis AFB. (A story for another time...)

It is hot and groups of kids are out in front of houses, sitting under elm trees, playing marbles, jacks, or maybe telling ghost stories. About 3 p.m., unnoticed, one kid slips into his house for a moment and comes ambling out proudly eating a white-bread sandwich. (Who ever heard or cared about wheat bread back then?!)

KID-RADARS were automatically activated: FLASH: PNBJ SANDWICH, PNBJ SANDWICH!!!  And swoosh, suddenly there were no kids--they all disappeared into a dozen homes...and all came out--each eating his OWN peanut butter and jelly sandwich!! A wonderful treat...and in a way--a miracle!

Where did this miracle come from? Peanuts are the roots and you harvest them by pulling on the green leaves and taking them out of the ground. I have walked peanut fields near Portales, N.M. and seen this.  Peanut butter is a food paste made from ground dry roasted peanuts. It dates back as far as the Aztec Indians, as well as probably other societies.

In modern times a number of patents were issued, but George Washington Carver is generally credited with modern peanut butter, whereby vegetable oils and flavorings are added to make it spreadable.

In childhood years, when we brought a jar of peanut butter home from the store, it usually had a half inch or more of oil in the top of the jar. You simply stirred it good and it was ready to go. Today, it is beautifully mixed and smooth. Various sizes of peanut chunks are available; personally I favor the "extra crunchy."

What are YOUR favorite ways to eat peanut butter? Some like PNB and honey mixed and on buttered toast; PNB on celery sticks; PNB on biscuit with bacon or sausage; PNB ice cream, or Reese's PNB cups. PNB on a crispy piece of "winter wheat" toast and a veggie sausage is good! I have even heard of weird things, like a PNB and cucumber sandwich or a PNB and banana sandwich. Well, I guess it's weird only if YOU like it and I don't. LOL.

Now we come to what you ladies have been waiting for: nutrition. Sorry to disappoint, but Mil is not into nutrition. Anyway, we know that what is healthful today will be bad tomorrow...and vice versa. How could  generations of kids have turned out so well if PNB were not good for them?

Well, guess that's about it for this time. Besides, I have talked myself into a SNACK!! I think I'll go and make my favorite: a PNB san on Nature's Own Wheat Bread, slathered generously with good old orange marmalade! WOW! YUM! YUM!! Until next time...

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(Please send in YOUR weirdest PNB snack!)

by Mil, 2/17/12

Sent from my iPad

THIS FISH STORY IS A DOOZY!

It happened one early June day in the summer of 1976. My company, in order to harangue its already overly-harangued agents into selling more, often planned summer sales conferences in exotic places. That summer the location was Purgatory (no pun intended). Snow was still on all the peaks, but ski season was over, and the prices very reasonable for the many unoccupied, fashionable suites.

The word was, that during the three day meeting, one afternoon was to be free for the agents to hike, sight-see, bird-watch, fish, or whatever. So four of us decided ahead of time we would fish and took our tackle with us. I, being somewhat versed in fishing equipment, took my 7 foot state-of-the-art, incredibly strong and flexible Ferralite fishing rod. This rod, with the joints not made of steel, but of rod material, would bend like you wouldn't believe. It seemed like you could cast a mile--out to where the BIG ONES LAY-- and with even a little six inch fish on the line, the action felt like you had a whale; well, almost.

When the appointed free afternoon came, the four of us, in a van, drove back south to Lake Haviland, 18 miles north of Durango.  At a nearby country story/filling station, we bought non-resident fishing licenses.  We also bought lunch: a loaf of bread, a pack of bologna, cheese slices, small mayo, pork and beans, potato chips, and Pepsis.

We then turned off the highway several miles to beautiful Haviland Lake, nestled at the foot of some majestic snow-covered peaks. There was a campground with big pine trees, and we parked and ate there.

After eating, we carried our gear down to water's edge where quite a few folks were already fishing. There was some guy there by the water's edge showing newly arrived fishermen how to rig their fishing lines.  He spoke with great authority advocating the use of bubles and hooks.

So there he was, THE FISHING EXPERT, showing each one  how to put these bubbles on his line, X inches apart, and interspersed between them, snelled hooks containing salmon eggs or what-all, blah, blah. (I was not a "bubble guy," considered myself a good fisherman in my own right, and "had other fish to fry," so to speak.) So I put a gold Panther Martin lure on my line, and began to work around the lake toward deeper water and fewer people.

Can you visualize this peaceful bucolic scene?  People sitting all along the shore, some dozing, others watching their bubbles. The air is kind of cool, even in June, in mid-afternoon in the Rockies. But the sun is warm, the lake is lap-lapping ever so slightly; friendly thunderheads are all around, but not threatening. A rogue mallard flies by at fifteen feet over the lake; was his wing sore--did he beg off the northern duck flight? In the clear mountain air, the casting and reeling and its repetitiveness had me half mesmerized. WHEN...

WHAM!!!! The Ferralite rod felt as if a truck had hit it. It literally nearly jumped out of my hands. And simultaneously, out there about forty yards away, the BIGGEST RAINBOW TROUT I HAD EVER SEEN came straight up out of the water, and seemed to hang there about four feet high for the longest time!! Was HE on MY POLE??? Na-a-a-aw!! It couldn't be...but IT WAS!! He would lunge--then run toward me--then run the other way, hit the end of the line--and JUMP out of the water over and over. He was one mad trout. Friends, I can't tell you how much I wished for a bigger than 10 LB. test line. But I loved the rod; it was giving me my money's worth.

Maybe I yelled, who knows? Maybe, I being the only one moving around on that lazy lake, attracted attention (particularly with my bent-double rod); at any rate it seemed like suddenly there were a couple of dozen people around me...yes, stifling for us “pro fishermen”.

Since after 36 years it is hard to remember the small details, I will use some "writer embellishment." I played that fish like the expert fisherman I was. He was a worthy opponent. We tried to outfox each other. Sweat was dripping off me; my shirt was wet. I followed him up and down the shore, I pulled and I let up. If the drag was set, I don't remember. He jumped and we fought until at last I saw him in the shallows and I quit reeling and just ran backwards, pulling him in. It was the biggest, most beautiful trout I had ever seen.

 People from all around were applauding the great fisherman, and admiring his fish. A strange thing then happened. Everyone, really everyone, started saying "What bait were you using?" They began to rummage around in their tackle boxes for Panther Martins, or anything that closely resembled my lure. I could have sold, I believe, two dozen of those on the spot, had I had the foresight to stock them. And suddenly our Bubble Guy became "fisherman non grata," and I became "FISHERMAN DU JOUR."

You ask, dear reader, "But Mil, did you 'catch and release' ?" No, I am sorry to say. But can you understand: I would rather have jumped into the water...myself!!

That night, at the Purgatory suite, everyone came in to see my frozen trout. He was a full 23 inches long, nearly as long as my arm. Having no scales, I don't know his weight. I kept him frozen and brought him home...the biggest, most beautiful fish I ever caught: A REAL DOOZY!

So ends the story of another boring sales meeting...but the MOST EXCITING FISH STORY OF MY LIFE!!!!

                                         Lake Haviland

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By Mil, 2-3-12

Sent from my iPad

"CHOW CHOW" -- AS AMERICAN AS APPLE PIE!

It is said that chow chow is a Chinese dish. If that is so, they must have gotten it from the American South, because it is "old as the hills" down there! Most of us, with rural roots somewhere in our recent ancestry, have heard of and eaten chow chow.

It is defined in the dictionary as (a) a Chinese preserve of fruits, peels, and ginger, (b) a relish consisting of chopped vegetables pickled in mustard. There seem to be quite a number of recipe variations of chow chow. Google: "Chow Chow--Green Tomato Relish" and you will find these ingredients, which will give you an idea of the taste and consistency: green tomatoes, chopped cabbage, onions, red and green bell peppers, pickling salt, cider vinegar, brown sugar, mustard seeds, garlic, celery seeds, and optional red pepper flakes.

YUM--YUM!! Mix all that and make a big pot of pinto beans or butter beans with ham chunks, pour your chow chow over a bowl of that and make brown crispy corn bread muffins, and my friends, you have a feast!  One writer suggests: "great with sausages, pork, ham, or serve on hot dogs or hamburgers."

There may be a slight problem if you choose to make your own chow chow: green tomatoes might be hard to find in off season. (Wait! Aren't they the ONLY kind you can find then?! LOL, Just kidding.) Another thing is , the process seems a litlle daunting to me, a mere "sous chef" at best, who doesn't SIFT flour, SEPARATE eggs, or CLARIFY butter.

At any rate, NOT TO WORRY, we don't have to make our own chow chow! Mil has discovered a marvelous company, BLUE RIDGE JAMS, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, near Asheville, N.C. This company offers in its catalog or on it's web site, eight different chow chow selections. Here they are according to "heat" levels:

Vidalia Onion Chow Chow
Mild Chow Chow
Hot Chow Chow
Jalapeño Chow Chow
Hotter n' Heck Chow Chow
Five Pepper Chow Chow
Flaming Hot Chow Chow
Butt Kicking Chow Chow

We have ordered three of these. Two are awaiting in the shelf--Vidalia and Mild. We are almost through the Jalapeño and it is good, and plenty hot!! We even put some on green beans, Wow!

Now, here is an interesting thing--right under the chow chows they list about 15 different relishes which might be kind of cousins to the chows. I will list several: Artichoke Relish, Habanero Pepper Relish, Pear Relish, Sweet Pepper Relish, and Zucchini Relish.

Before I leave Blue Ridge Jams, let me say that this company "has been making the finest gourmet food products in the Blue Ridge Mountains since 1961." They are handmade in small batches, hand-stirred, and I visualize clean stainless steel bowls, etc. Here are some more of their amazing products: jellies, jams, preserves, conserves, gourmet pepper jellies, habanero pepper jellies, brandy preserves and wine jellies, fruit butter, fruit syrup, and pie fillings.

You can access their web site, phone them for a nice free catalog, or write them. Phone 828-776-7087.
http://www.blueridgejams.com/  (I have no connection with them)

In writing about farm events such as dispatching chickens, quilting, plowing, drinking cold water from a windmill, eating watermelons in the field, I receive a lot of comments from readers. All these things above evoke fond memories of a simpler time---a happy time---maybe when "all the world was young." I hope this Chow Chow post will be no exception.

by Mil, 2-1-12
　
　
　
　
　
Sent from my iPad