IMHO

I think that our next national holiday should be the Monday after Daylight Savings Time begins. It only makes sense. Today, everyone who works a regular job (those of us lucky enough to still have jobs) is groggy and crabby, school kids are cranky, because even if you went to bed early Sunday night, it doesn't seem to help. Also, this is the longest stretch in the calendar (from the middle of February until the end of May) without a holiday, and I think that needs to be rectified. Easter doesn't count because it's always on a Sunday and there's no paid day off. I mean, I doubt anything of consequence is being accomplished today, and frankly, those hypermotivated people that are accomplishing things, probably would be regardless of it being a holiday or not.
Maybe we should call it "National Sleep-In Day," to honor the chronically sleep-deprived (read: most of us), or "Spring Fertility Rites Day" since pagans really don't have a holiday of their own and it only seems fair. I dunno, I'm just spitballing here, but I'm sure everyone will agree, the wait for Memorial Day is just too damned long.

The Flavors of My Childhood

1. Raspberry- They grow all over the place. When I was in Alaska last September, I spent a significant amount of time stuffing myself from roadside patches and hoping I wasn't feasting on someone's unharvested bounty.
2. Verner's Ginger Ale- "Barrel Aged, Bold Taste. A Michigan Tradition Since 1888." Mom grew up in Michigan and this stuff used to be hard to find. We'd drink it whenever we visited my gramma in Clawson. Now it's been bought by 7-Up and is available in just about every major supermarket.
3. Salmon- Alaska has fairly liberal subsistence laws, and we had several friends who set-netted and regularly caught more than they could use. Our freezer was always well stocked with quality fish, a fact I never really appreciated until I moved to the Lower 48 and paid high prices for farmed salmon.
4. Cranberry-orange relish- Mom was a pretty good cook when she could be bothered. This was her special holiday dish, fresh oranges and cranberries ground together in a meat grinder never used for anything else. While it was always seasoned well, it was never sweet enough for me.
5. Rum balls- Straight from The Joy of Cooking, dusted with powdered sugar, a holiday treat that did satisfy my sweet tooth.
6. Fried tofu- Mom would use it in sweet-and-sour, or sometimes just serve plain. The closest approximation I've been able to find is the deep fried tofu triangles appetizer at Sweet Pink Pepper on Santa Monica.

Sunday, October 18th, 2008 (part 1)

Because my mother chose not to be embalmed, the burial had to take place relatively quickly. She was a very organic person, and pragmatic too, so the idea of being pumped full of preservatives and laid to rest in an expensive and otherwise useless container was antithetical to who she was. She had told me about my grandmother's death a couple of times; how she had washed and shrouded Gramma's body, how it was very simple and uncomplicated, not particularly awful or gruesome. And so for my mom, I felt that I could do no less.

I realize that this might be shocking to some, indeed, I think the visceral reaction most people, at least Westerners, have to a dead body is to get away as fast as possible. Certainly not to touch, or even look at, as if the mere sight of a dead person might be deadly. And in these modern times, we have such a sanitized way of dealing with things. The websites I looked up for "When a Loved One Dies" were a little helpful, but there was always a line like, "...and then the funeral director will come for the body." And what if he doesn't?

In the days before modern mortuary services, and in places where those services still don't exist, family and friends took care of dead loved ones. They were cleaned, dressed and laid out in the parlor, the special occasion room, until marketing and science took over, and now we have "living" rooms, and hand our deceased over to qualified strangers. All very clean and sanitized and scientific, and artificial and numbing and unreal. But then, reality is often messy and unpretty, unpleasant to deal with, and so I guess it's easier, although, to my way of thinking, drastically depersonalized.

At least I wasn't alone in my endeavor. Mom was quite popular locally, well known and generally well loved, with a wide circle of devoted friends. Very, very devoted friends, as it turns out. There were logistical things to figure out, things that a funeral home would have handled, like a burial permit, and transporting the body. I had hoped that someone who knew her would have felt moved to build a casket, that was what happened when my little brother died, but not in this case. So a litter was built, and beautiful, purple hemp-blend fabric was offered as a shroud, which my mother would have liked greatly. I found a lovely cloth, again in deep pinks and purples, with a tree of life and ornamental birds on it, maybe intended as a wall hanging or furniture drape, that seemed perfect for covering her.

Since it was Sunday and I hadn't been to church since high school, I attended the Episcopal church my mother had been a member of for decades. (To be continued...)