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CURRENT MOON

  Friday, November 11, 2005


Welcome Back Chefs
Thanksgiving is Away Awhile
But What in the World is Dracaena Fragrans?

I usually entertain others as well as myself for writing multi-part blogs. When I write another book maybe this blog will stop - just not today.

I have asked a few friends who claim to be chefs or as least "cooks" to bake me some Poaceae Triticum. Some, if not most, fail with my simple intent to be successful.

Horses won't go down stairs nor will they venture down corn plant rows - horses are just that simple. (I'll tell you more about them maybe later. I'll tell you how to approach these relatively large creatures if you desire.) We will start this story much simpler.

Awhile back I did what I despised from anyone on any farm. I'm an old locksmith and you can't keep me out by trying to prevent me with anything called a lock. On this particular property I didn't pick any locks. There was just a simple chain on the gate that I desired to get through - and passed the "No Trespassing - Private property sign". I would have probably been shot.

I cantered down at the base of the Waianae mountains riding a white mare (lio) and met the corn farmer in an old truck who had extended his arm out of his window saying something to the extent of, "Whoa Paniolo!"

The good guys always rode the white horses.

My employees have seen you up here before. "Do you know that you are trespassing?" (Later he spoke entirely in the Hawaiian language.)

"Ae, ike mau (yes, we know)" There is no thievery involved here (ka 'aihue; I responded to him speaking entirely in Hawaiian as well.).

"What do you want?" he asked.

I reached for my miserly wallet and retrieved a total of the three dollars that I had with me and offered those three dollars to him. "My horse loves the stream up there." I said motioning to the Waianae mountains." There's a dollar for our trespassing and the other two are wanted to pay for some corn to be eaten at my party today".

This local man went back to his nasty older truck and brought forth his brown bag lunch. He said to me, "Stick around." From his own lunch he offered his very own apple to my horse. She loves those things and strangely, he knows it too. He knows as well as I do to watch those horse's teeth near his own fingers.

The horse licked her lips just then. "Does that mean she likes apples?"

"Well, yes she does but that isn't what a horse means by doing what she did. It's psychological - and that one is a good one." "That's a beautiful Quarter. How did you get passed the gate?" he asked.

I responded using gestures with my hands indicating that she just jumps over...."Her name is Mist. (Two of the letters in that name don't exist in the Hawaiian alphabet. 'Ohu was the best that I could manage for the farmer.)

How many in your party today?" he asked.

"Only six." "Wait a minute." he said and promptly pulled out one of the relatively larger pocket knives that I've ever seen. He walked into his own rows and came back with an ear of corn which he promptly chopped into three pieces on his old truck hood.

"Try this one." he said while handing back my own three dollars. "Go get whatever you want in my rows. You can come to the stream any time you want to."

We each ate a third of that corn ear raw and they were delicious. The proportion of sugar to starch in new raw corn is 80%-20%. In three or four days that exact proportion is exactly reversed. I cook these things about three minutes - that's it. Some people like salt and butter. Would you like to try what I term corn mush? Drop in on any Kentucky Fried Chicken and have some of their corn.


12:15:00 PM    Feed Me! []


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