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Fetal Alcohol Syndrome Advocacy

The Rise of The E'KuNs: A S'TO Story by Delinda McCann

7/27/2015

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Privilege is a curious phenomenon.  Nobody would have called the E’Kuns privileged when they lived on the edge of the village with their five daughters.  They were among the poorest of the poor despite the long hours Papa E’Kun worked making pottery.  Nothing changed when their freaky twins left with the old man.  The E’KuNs were still almost outcasts as they slowly starved and worked themselves to death. 

Months later, when Mama E’Kun left home with Ulaylee, in the company of Marina and Marina’s strong husband, people did take notice.  When Mama E’Kun returned home in the company of another young man amid rumors that the ugly Ulaylee had married a rich man, people, that is mothers with marriageable daughters, narrowed their eyes and rethought the E’KuN family. 

They whispered among themselves.  “Did you see all the tools and pretty fabric Marina and her husband bought?” 

Aunt. J’VT held her chin up and declared, “Well, I don’t like to act as if I’m better than others so when Corinna E’Kun passed by my house, I just called out friendly-like and asked after her daughters.  She told me Sabrina is expecting, and she’d been to visit while they added two rooms to their house.  So next, I enquired right-out about Ulaylee, and she said, as bold as you please, that Ulaylee had married a very well set up young man.  I didn’t believe this, but that young man with her nodded his head.  Then Corinna rushed away without introducing the young man.”  Aunt J’VT almost whined as she lamented not meeting the young man.

“Has anybody met him?”  Mrs. M’TN had two unmarried daughters.  The oldest had a twisted foot but if the E’KuNs could get rid of Ulaylee, maybe she could get rid of Sprig.

Mrs. M’TN might be illiterate, but she knew what is what.  As soon as she returned from market she pulled some fig preserves off a shelf, dipped off the layer of mold, spread the preserves on some oatcakes and rushed off to the E’KuNs to give her new friend a Welcome Home present. 

Mrs. M’TN found Uncle J’VT had arrived before her and was deep in negotiations for a bowl and “something pretty for the wife, you know.  I brought Medina here to carry something delicate.”

Medina nodded and tried to look like a delicate, but useful, sort of girl. 

Young Kam who had graciously offered to protect Mama E’KuN on her trip home, looked Medina over carefully.  He listened to the negotiations.  He looked around the E’KuN hut.  He nodded.  One of the E’KuN girls would not look down on him and his modest holdings, where as someone accustomed to richer furnishings and fine china might not be content. 

Mrs. M’TN inquired boldly whether Kam had come to pick out a wife. 

Kam blushed and looked out the door.  “The S’TOs bought some fine tools when they were in the city.  I would like to purchase such as they have.  Rue and Hau have done well for themselves.  I figure nobody could do better.”  He had noticed Mama E’KuN’s surprise when the M’TN woman pushed through their gate. Kam knew what is what. 

Uncle J’VT quizzed Kam carefully about his home.  “Are there many families in the neighborhood?  Do Marina and Sabrina have many female friends their age?”  He could barely contain his glee at the news of a whole valley full of rich, unmarried young men.”

The next day, Kam and Papa E’KuN left for the city.  They had not quite reached the edge of the village when Aunt Zu sent her daughter out to the gate to purchase a plate and cup from Papa E’KuN. 

Papa E’KuN finally had to start laughing out loud over how the road had become strewn with marriageable girls as they picked their way toward the city, stopping to sell a bowl here and a plate there.  Papa E’KuN had one cup left when he reached the city.  Never had he sold his pottery for so much.

Upon returning home, Papa E’KuN sat down to an elegant dinner of quail, bean cakes, cheese and a sweet pudding.  He raised his eyebrows at his wife who commented dryly, “My neighbors are happy to see me home and brought gifts.  Their daughters miss Marina and Sabrina and long to visit them.”

Papa E’KuN nodded, “The same daughters that threw sticks at them I suppose.”

Mama E’KuN scowled at the memory, “Perhaps it is not wise to remember such things when people bring gifts.”

The next morning, Kam left the E’KuN house early in the morning with the remaining two sisters.  To be sure, the youngest was a bit young to be in charge of a household, but since she stayed with the S’TO’s cousins and married Young Phillip, she had many older women for guidance.   

Before the luster of the E’KuNs marrying off five impoverished daughters had a chance to wear off, Kam sent his younger brother to help Papa E’KuN work in the clay.  Not only could the young man do more hard work than all the E’KuN daughters put together, but a steady stream of gifts and young women poured through the gate of the E’KuN hut. 

Uncle J’VT asked Papa E’KuN to become a member of the village elders.  He explained his reasoning to the other elders.  If that man could marry off those daughters, he just might have something to say.  Also, I’ve noticed they must be receiving gifts from the girls’ families for they always have a full table.  Little did anybody realize that the rest of the village was filling that table. 

Over the next few years, a total of ten young women, including Sprig with the twisted foot, moved to the valley in the mountains.  Their families continued to trade with the village to the mutual benefit of both communities.  Papa E’KuN became a respected elder eventually opening the first store for trading goods in the village.

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Day of The Zucchini By Delinda McCAnn

7/20/2015

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PictureZucchini preparing to double in size every 15 minutes.
This year, summer reached its full bounty early in the northwest.  It has been hot and dry since May.  This early summer has produced some unusual phenomenon, even for Vashon.  My flowers came on extra-early.  We’ve had one red tide that closed beaches.   Some people have reported seeing unusually large bugs.  I don’t have bugs, however I am suffering under the weight of a different Northwest summer infestation, summer squash.

What was I thinking?  I know my reasoning.  I love the patty pan squash.  The Butterstick come on earliest and are so tender.  Of course, the standard green zucchini is so useful and will produce under challenging, usually cold, conditions.  Okay, I could have planted three plants, but what if one died?  I planted two of each variety for safety sake.  I was clearly out of touch with reality.

Now, I didn’t start all that many seeds, only six seeds per variety.  I didn’t expect all eighteen seeds to sprout and survive to transplant stage.  I did manage to give some starts away.  The rest I consigned to the compost pile.

Being reluctant to throw viable baby plants on the compost pile, hubby snuck out to the garden with the remaining babies and tucked them in here and there.  They survived and thrived, bloomed and bore.

Thus, I am developing my rounds for delivering summer squash to willing recipients.  I think I’ll start giving it away at my flower stand. So far, I’ve refused to stoop to midnight summer squash raids where I dump oversized zucchini on innocent people’s doorsteps, so far. 

Now, we are eating summer squash.  We like it best simply steamed and bathed in butter.  Since I pick it about ten minutes before it goes into the steamer, it couldn’t get more succulent and fresh. 

Saturday night we had roast veggies featuring summer squash. 

****

Recipe

3 Tlb. Olive Oil – pour in 9 x 13” baking pan

2 Tlb. Favorite seasoning mix. (I used Zataar from All Things Rich)

2 Cups each Patty Pan, Yellow Butterstick, and Zucchini Squash - cubed

2 Walla Walla Sweet Onions

1 Large beet

½ Head Cauliflower

1 Cup Broccoli Shoots.

Mix veggies with oil and seasoning until coated.  Bake 400 for an hour or until beet chunks are fork tender.

Serve with a sprinkle of your favorite grated cheese.

********

Since we have leftover veggies for Sunday night, I tried something different for our Sunday Dessert.

Summer Squash Crumble

Crust:

1 Cup flour

¾ Cup Rolled Oats

1 Cup Brown sugar

½ Cup butter (1 stick)

Melt butter and mix into dry ingredients until crumbly.  Press ½ of the mixture into buttered  8 x 8” baking pan

Filling:

4 Cups Summer Squash sliced into bite size pieces

¼ Cup Lemon Juice

½ Cup Sugar

1 Tsp. Cinnamon

½ Tsp. Nutmeg

½ Tsp. Vanilla

Mix ingredients and cook in saucepan on top of stove until squash is tender

Thickening:

¼ Cup lemon juice

2 Tlb. Flour

¼ Cup sugar

Mix thickening ingredients together.  Stir to eliminate lumps.  Slowly add thickener to the filling while stirring. 

Add thickened filling to 8x8 pan and cover with remaining crust. 

Bake 350 for 35 minutes.

Hubby loved the crumble.  It has a pleasant sweet tart flavor.

Pasta Sauce:

6 Cups shredded Summer Squash
3 Sprigs off of the Rosemary Bush (about 7” or 1 tsp. ground)
4 Leaves Sweet Bay
2 Sprigs thyme (1tsp ground)
1 Large handful Sweet Basil leaves (2 Tlb. Dried)

Cook Summer Squash with herbs until mushy.  Pick out stems of herbs and puree in blender.  An immersion blender works great.  Return sauce to stove.

Add:

¼ Cup dry white wine (or 2 TLB. Lemon juice)
1 Cup Onion
3 Large Cloves Garlic
1 Cup Mushrooms
1 Cup Olives
1 Pound Sausage
¼ Pound Pepperoni

Simmer two or three hours until all flavors are blended.  Serve hot over pasta. 

Can sprinkle with favorite shredded cheese.

I will freeze the leftover sauce, since this would serve 8 people.


*****
In the past I’ve made zucchini pickles.  We still have a jar or two left in the garage.  Perhaps one could make wine or beer with summer squash.  We’ve used it in salsa.  I’ll add some to my sauerkraut and summer relish.

And it will keep producing until frost, which may not happen until December.

What do you do with your summer squash?  I’d love to hear your ideas for using it.  You can post your favorite recipe by clicking the comments button at the top of the page.


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The Box: An Aunt Charlotte Story By Delinda McCann

7/14/2015

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The Room Mothers for our kindergarten class planned a Christmas party.  Aunt Charlotte had volunteered to bring dream bars, which were so yummy I had visions of passing them around the room and everybody saying they were the best treat ever.

I also had fantasies of buying a necklace for Ann or a model car for Tommy.  I had a crush on Tommy. 

When the teacher announced that we would draw names to see who each of us would buy a twenty-five cent gift for, I felt absolutely certain I would draw one of my friends.  I just knew that my fingers would attract the names of my friends to me. 

The universe didn’t know about my expectations.  I pulled a piece of paper out of the cloth bag that hid all the names.  I opened it up making certain nobody could see the name on my paper.  I looked at the name.  “Walter Long.” 

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I tried not to look at the unfortunate Walter Long.  Nobody looked at Walter because he had snot on his face.  He wore clothes that were too big for him, and he still didn’t know the alphabet.  He actually fell asleep during naptime.

I felt so embarrassed because I still felt certain that the universe would deliver to me the person I wanted to buy a gift for, and I didn’t want my friends to think I wanted to buy a gift for Walter Long.  As each student took their paper to the teacher’s desk, she read the name to them and wrote down who was buying for whom.  I blushed and almost cried when it was my turn to show the teacher my piece of paper.  She didn’t snicker or laugh when she wrote down Walter’s name, which kept me from crying with shame.

Aunt Charlotte picked me up from school.  I waited until I was in her car before I hid myself on the floor and howled out my shame and embarrassment. 

Aunt Charlotte looked down at me and said, “Really Rosemary, nothing is that bad.”

I nodded and hiccoughed.

She let me sit on the floor and howl.

Once we arrived home, Aunt Charlotte walked me all the way to my room before she told me to sit beside her and tell her what my problem was.  I removed the offending paper from my pocket and explained about Christmas and Walter and how my friends would laugh and think I was stupid.

Aunt Charlotte sighed.  “Walter must come from a poor family.  I remember being a little girl.  The other kids can be mean to someone they see as inferior.”  Aunt Charlotte sat silently beside me. 

I appreciated that Aunt Charlotte understood my problem.  I began to hope that she would go to school with me and tell my teacher that I couldn’t possibly buy a gift for Walter.  She had other ideas.

“Rosemary, who Walter is does not make you any different.  Yes, I know the other students might laugh and be cruel.  You need to give your gift in such a way that the other students will respect you.”

“How do I do that?”  I had visions of taking my gift to school and telling the teacher I had a tummy ache and skipping school until after Christmas vacation.  Pretending to be sick would mean that I couldn’t go to the Christmas program, and I wanted to be in the Christmas program because I got to wear wings and dance with the Christmas Angels.  The wings looked suspiciously like the butterfly wings used in the May festival, but I didn’t care.  I wanted to wear wings and dance.

Aunt Charlotte interrupted my internal debate about skipping Christmas all together,  “Let me think about this.  Tomorrow, we’ll go to the dime store and you can do your shopping.”

We didn’t go the dime store immediately after school.  We waited until Devon got out of school.  Aunt Charlotte insisted that he could pick out a better gift for a boy.  Devon did pick out a gift.  I thought it was okay.  He told me the model F-86 Saber was cool. I nodded and paid for the small gift.  Next, we went to the room behind the dime store and the clerk helped us pick out boxes.  Each box needed to be bigger than the last.  When we got home, the whole family sat down after dinner and helped me wrap Walter’s gift.  Even Devon told me the whole gift was cool.

I didn’t know how I would carry my big box with the gift to the school, but Aunt Charlotte told me she would take it in her car.  She left really early to take it, so when I got there from the bus, the big box already sat in the corner at the front of the room.

Finally, the mothers started arriving to set up for the party.  Everybody talked about the great big box and wondered who it was for and what was in it.  Both my mom and Aunt Charlotte came.  Most of the mothers came.  I noticed that Walter’s mother didn’t come.

When the gift exchange started, the teacher called us in alphabetical order to come get the gift we brought and give it to the person we bought for.  Every time somebody started to walk to the front of the room, the students whispered, “Is it the big box?  What is in the big box?”

Finally, I walked to the front of the room and picked up the big box.  Everybody cheered.  Joey jumped up and declared, “If she can lift it, it can’t be heavy.” 

I heard Esau whispering, “Me, me, me.”

I set the box in front of Walter and returned to my seat while everybody urged him to open it. 

Walter opened the box to find a smaller box with a prettier bow.  The room grew deathly still with only Esau whispering, “Open it.”

Walter opened the next box and pulled out a smaller box with an even more elaborate bow.  Walter paused and looked around the room.

“Open it.”  Several students hissed.

The next smallest box had some beads on the ribbons and the next smallest had a couple feathers our rooster had left in the garden tucked into the bow.  Still, Walter opened the next. 

Tommy exclaimed, “The bows are getting bigger than the packages.”

With the next box, Mrs, White, our teacher exclaimed, “Oh how beautiful.” When she saw a box mom had taken special care with.

Just as Walter opened the next to the last box, his mother in her student nurse’s uniformed rushed in apologizing for being late.  “Walter, is that for you?”

He looked a little stunned as he looked at his mom and asked, “Can we decorate our tree with all these bows?”

Mrs. Long knelt down beside her son and helped him with the next box so he wouldn’t break the bow. 

Finally, Walter held the box with the model plane in it.  Ann nudged me and whispered, “What did you get him?”

I just shook my head and worried that he’d think the plane was dumb after all the boxes and pretty bows.

Both Walter and his mother got very still as they opened the box and looked at the small airplane inside.  She started to cry and Walter picked the plane gently from the box and kissed it. 

Tommy shouted, “A Saber. Wow! Cool.”

Walter spoke, “My Daddy flew a Saber.  He was shot down in Korea.”

I don’t remember much of the rest of the party.  Mrs. Long hugged me and told me that the plane was a perfect gift.  Mrs. White hugged me.  Mom and Aunt Charlotte cried.  I remembered to give Devon credit for helping me pick out the gift and the rest of the family for helping me with the wrapping.  Tommy hugged me.  I don’t remember what I got from my classmate that year, but I still remember Tommy hugging me.

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micorrhizae  By Delinda McCann

7/6/2015

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When farmers talk about living soil, one important part of the living soil is the micorrhizae, the beneficial bacteria and fungi that actually transfer nutrients in the soil to the roots of plants.  They are necessary for plants to live and thrive.  These occur naturally in soil with organic matter in it. 

Because the micorrhizas are living organisms they can and do die, so the concern is to avoid those activities in the garden that will kill off the beneficial organisms.  They live in communities in your soil, so breaking up their communities by rototilling can kill them.  Excessive salts kill them and alkaline soil is not a good environment for them.  Excessive salts enter the soil through concentrated fertilizers as compared to compost or other raw ingredients.  This is why organic gardeners are so vehement against “chemicals” in the garden.  Chemicals will kill the micorrhizae.  

A low micorrhizae count will result in stunted plants or plants that require more fertilizer to reach full size.   Without micorrhizae, plants will have a lower immunity to disease and be more susceptible to insect attacks.  In my gardens that have healthy soil, I don’t get aphid attacks.  I can tell which beds need more compost or a treatment of micorrhizae by whether or not aphids are attacking the cole crops. 

My imported soil has not had healthy levels of micorrhizae.  It has just been too mixed and manipulated for communities of beneficial organisms to grow, so I’ve developed several sources of beneficial bacteria and fungi to add to my soil.  I tried buying fungi from Fungi Perfect.  The inoculants came in a powdered form that I sprinkled in the ground with my transplants.  I’m not certain it did much good.  My best source of good things for the garden comes from the duck pen.  Bedding mixed with manure is good.  The ducks mix a little bit of everything into their water buckets.  Everyday, when I change their water, they’ve given me half a bucket full of murky, disgusting sludge that when dumped on a garden works miracles.  Especially in the warmer weather things start growing in the duck water fairly quickly. 

Manure tea is another source of beneficial bacteria.  It is much like my duck water.  One concern with manure tea has been that most of the bacteria are anaerobic.  Some think aerobic bacteria are better for the soil.  I’m not certain which theory in the Anaerobic VS Aerobic debate is right or if there is a true difference.  However, I did buy a pump for making aerobic “manure tea’.    The process is a little more challenging than regular manure tea where you throw a shovel of duck bedding or a cow pie in a five-gallon bucket and let it sit.  Aerobic manure tea adds oxygen to the five-gallon bucket with a little pump that works much like the pump for a fish tank.

The aerobic process is a little more dramatic than the anaerobic-let-it-sit process.  When the aerobic tea starts to work, it produces a lively head of foam that spatters all over the wall near the outlet where the pump is plugged in.  The instructions that came with my aerobic set up included a recipe of compost plus a high nitrogen source. The Soil Soup company suggested buying their ingredients rather than using a little duck water and some litter from the duck yard.  I suppose people who don’t have farm animals might need to buy ingredients. 

My other source of fertilizer and microbes for my gardens comes from my big ponds.  In the heat of the summer the ponds turn green and skuzzy.  I can hook a hose to the pump for the fountain and water my gardens with the pond water that is full of fish poop and anything the ducks have deposited in the ponds, plus whatever decided to grow.

Once a garden starts growing its own community of micorrhizas, all one needs to add is organic matter.  There is no need to inoculate every year.  Some of my older beds do just fine without the duck water or other amendments other than the leaves that fall from the plants.  Once established, beds of healthy soil do not need much water or added fertilizer.  Healthy soil that doesn’t need amendments really saves the grower a small fortune while producing an abundance of food and flowers.

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    Author

    Delinda McCann is a social psychologist, author, avid organic gardener and amateur musician.

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