Mystery Soap

“Rub-a-dub-dub, three men in a tub.” For some reason that piece of a nursery rhyme seemed to fit nicely to the rhythmic motions of drying the shampooed heads of my little boys after bath time. And strangely enough, that ties in with another enigmatic fragment of a story from our local newspaper dated May 14, 1914.

According to this particular  article, a Judge Castle received a letter from a soap company in Marseilles, France requesting a sample of the natural soap found south of town. The article doesn’t state this, but one would suppose the Judge was the one who supposedly sent this firm a sample of this substance which they had not yet received, but were eager to see.

Judging by the newspaper article, this “natural soap” was just “found.” The phrasing leads the reader to wonder if it was found lying on the ground, waiting to be picked up or had some enterprising housewife or camp cook concocted a recipe?

When I researched soap making a bit, lye was mentioned as well as various oils. Our barren landscape has plenty of outcroppings of alkali and sagebrush is certainly plentiful in these parts so both of these items could furnish possible ingredients for soap.But how this “natural soap” came to be created is a fascinating mystery.

Whether anything ever came of a possible business transaction between Judge Castle with his “natural soap” and the French soap company is unknown, but I’m guessing no business deal was contracted (particularly if the mail service didn’t improve). As I write that, I realize that Europe was heating up for World War I although I doubt that conflagration would interrupt intercontinental mail as early as May 1914.

If any local Elkoans know anything about this interesting little tidbit, please post a comment on FB. I would love to know more about this story.

After doing the small amount of research related to this topic, it makes me think I either need to purchase natural soaps (some of which are available locally) or I need to learn how to make my own as there are “recipes”  to be found free of charge on the Net. Why? Because the additives in commercial soaps are downright scary.

Until next week, think about what kind of cleansing substance you’re using on your skin. Happy scrubbingJ

Please Pass the Mashed Potatoes

Remember that favorite stuffed animal or fuzzy blanket you had to take to bed with you when you were little? Our boys both had quilted blankets that were in tatters by the time the youngsters no longer deemed them necessary.

Our food favorites, judging by FaceBook, appear to be the "great blankie” for us in the 21^st century. That’s not to say that we all eat for emotional reasons, although many of us do. But the aroma of a favorite dish is bound to set the taste buds dancing. I can remember going back home for a visit with my family and my mom would fry bacon for breakfast. That delightful fried bacon smell woke me quicker than her call up the stairs that breakfast was ready.

Eating with a healthy appetite was not an unusual attribute when one grew up on a farm. One reason for the appetite was strenuous work that burned a lot of calories. Another reason was the women of the house were generally fantastic cooks.

I come from at least two generations of such cooks/bakers and the ability likely goes back further as my grandmother and her sister undoubtedly learned to cook from their mother, etc. Unfortunately, the culinary gift skipped me (although I was always able to feed my family satisfactorily and put on a “company dinner”) but enabled our son, whom I’ve nicknamed Chef Jeff. Interestingly enough, Jeff’s culinary concoctions often borrows from various Asian cuisines, none of which any of his grandmothers would even recognize.

But I digress. Recently, I read an article in a Sunday news magazine about recipes belonging to one’s mother and the thoughts they evoked. That brought on the food reminiscences in my mind—the yummy, asparagus-egg-cheese dish Mom would make for the family get-togethers, the buttery rolls that came from my Aunt Dorothy’s oven, and the interesting salads that Grandma T. would bring to such meals. I think she was the most adventurous  cook out of the four. Then, if we we were lucky, my Aunt Anna (Grandma T's sister) would bring an angel food cake for dessert. This was the cake I always requested for my birthday if we were going anywhere near her house during that time. Later, I discovered it took 8-12 eggs--of course she used her hens' eggs-- to make that cake which was lighter than air and wonderfully sweet.

All of these master cooks have passed on but have left some of their recipes behind. The interesting thing about many of these recipes, particularly my Grandmother’s is that only the ingredients are listed, but not many exact measurements. Perhaps in many cases, the way the batter or the dough handled (because of the humidity factor—this was the Midwest and they DO have noticeable humidity) governed the amount of flour or liquid used. At any rate, trying to re-create my grandmother’s recipes would be difficult, and my mother’s  or aunt’s, time-consuming. Unfortunately, none of Aunt Anna’s recipes made it to me, although I’m sure some were borrowed by other cooks in the family.

I must be content to remember those wonderful meals which were accompanied by laughter and many stories after the serious business of eating was finished. For my money, my mother was the best all-round cook--also the messiest but that’s another story. Her pie crusts were nearly as delicious as the fillings. In her later years, her cinnamon rolls were the star attraction. The time she forgot to add the cinnamon and sugar told us that an era had finally come to an end.

Remembering those wonderful culinary offerings and the words on a piece of paper from which they emerged is all a part of nostalgia. A recipe is a little like a magic carpet ride—it takes you back to a fondly remembered past and a host of wonderful aromas and delicious tastes and textures. And to think—there are no calories involved!

Meditation--but Not the Om-m-m Kind

Reflecting on meditation is probably a redundant phrase, but that's what I plan to do. As I've probably mentioned before, fascinating, ah-ha moments can come in the shower. I'm not sure such incidents can be labelled meditation, but if one stands under a relaxing stream of water, thinking, etc. until the temperature turns tepid, it could fit Webster's definition.

I had such a moment this morning as hymns coursed through my mind and the beautiful remembered harmonies of the old hymn I know as "O Love, That Wilt Not Let Me Go" ran through my brain. That may not fulfill the true meaning of meditation, but I certainly count it as a personal blessing from the Lord.

We have been reading Jim Berg's book entitled CHANGED INTO HIS IMAGE and I found a sub-heading in chapter 6 particularly interesting. In "The Search for God Must be a Search for a Person" he says, "Meditation...is studying the Bible to learn more about a Person--God Himself. The principles you find along the way as you study are manifestations of His character." He goes on to talk about scheduling time to study/meditate on whatever Bible passage you are reading at any given point.

I remember participating in a fairly in-depth Discipleship course called "MasterLife" in which we were to plan a Saturday where we could be free for four hours. During those four hours were to pray, sing worship songs, and read the Bible, thinking deeply about how the passages were personally applicable and what they were revealing to us about God. I was certain there was no way I could do that for such a length of time. Surprise! And blessings!

Berg uses the New Testament illustration of Jesus feeding the 5,000 and remarks, "God did not put that account in the Bible as an example of how we ought to feed large numbers of people when we have a church picnic. It was given to reveal something to us about God's Son, Jesus Chris." For instance, it shows us Jesus' compassion for people and His miraculous ability to meet people's needs. The account also shows Jesus as a master teacher, leading his disciples in deepening their faith in God.

We need to remember that the Scriptures are about a Person. At this point in his chapter, Berg quotes an extensive portion of a chapter in C.S. Lewis' MERE CHRISTIANITY, which, coincidentally (?) we are also reading. If you have not read this book by Lewis, I highly recommend it. It's not one to scan, but to read thoughtfully, with pencil in hand to underline and make notes (if you own the book:)

I look forward to learning more about my Creator--studying and meditating on what His Spirit reveals to me. It should be an interesting week:)

Contemplating the Week Past

Meditation is a subject I’ve become interested in over the past few months but I intend to digress somewhat at this point. Recently, I’ve noticed friends mentioning that they do some of their best thinking in the bathroom—and that of course, includes the shower or bathtub with the calm, relaxing effect of the water at the exact temperature which each finds most delightful.  

Now to get to what the dictionary defines as meditation: to engage in thought or contemplation/to reflect.  As I reflect on the past week, I see a landscape project accomplished, a ministry project closer to completion and a delightful time with out-of-town friends—a fairly full week.

With nice weather forecast, son Brian decided it was time to call for a load of gravel to complete the landscaping design his older brother had visualized two months earlier. As we neared the final gravel spreading, it was obvious we had a rather large pile of gravel with no place to go. Thanks to FB friends, that pile will eventually find a home away from its present location. 

My friend Nancy and her family decided to spend her birthday away from home (Las Vegas). Since they have a fondness for northeastern Nevada, we were able to spend a full day with them plus a piece of another one. Two family members went with Brian to photograph the sights of Tuscarora on Saturday and Nancy spent part of her birthday working with members of our Small Group tying a quilt top to its backing. 

One of the members of our group had pieced the quilt top and will finish the binding. It will then be given to one of the homeless folks who live along the Humboldt River in our area.

Nancy finished celebrating her birthday by going to The Bookstore, sitting down and picking out her favorite songs from the Baptist Hymnal 

and singing them while I accompanied her on the piano. This was done in two segments so Brian was able to join in with his guitar on the second go-round. 

The final frosting on her “cake” was a meal at The Star (to which we were invited). Oh joy, what a way to end a birthday!

As I meditate/cogitate/reflect on the week, I say, “Thank You, Lord, for friends, for family and for the leisure available to contemplate these blessings.”