WordSisters

Category: democracy

  • Forty Gallons into One

    Quality sleep generally suffers when serious, worrisome, or sad things press on daily life. And here we are with a horrible cacophony of such news screaming across the media, in grocery store lines, and casual conversations as friends and family look for some tiny assurance that the world, our country, or at least a personal circle could be okay.

    Driving through rural areas in late winter, bags hang from trees ready to tap maple sap. Other trees might also be tapped, but maple trees are the largest producers. Tubing might zig-zag through a larger tree stand instead to gather sap into larger lines and run to collection tanks. For a small syrup maker, the sap will fill bags or pails which will be collected then carried to the sugar house location.

    Forty gallons of sap are needed to make one gallon of maple syrup. The sap is boiled over an open flame until extra fluid is gone, then foam is removed and the syrup filtered. The process is time consuming with possibilities for accidents like burns and back strains. 

    Some syrup seasons snow still stands in the woods. As kids we filled small bowls with snow then bothered adults until syrup was poured over it. We learned how putting the maple candy in your mouth too quickly could painfully burn a tongue and how hot maple syrup splatter hurt on bare flesh. Regardless of age, we walked around the tubing, hot fires or equipment. No running for so many reasons.

    If weather affects trees or harvest happens too late, the sap might be cloudy or bitter wrecking a season. If sap is undercooked or overcooked the syrup will be of lower quality. If deer and bears mess with piping the sap may drain onto the ground instead of filling the collection tank. Many things can reduce production from 20 gallons to a few or nothing.

    The world seems to operate with the similar equations as maple syrup. A whole lot of good raw material or information may be required to produce a small amount of awesome happiness. There are many ways to interfere with delivery of the good and deliver serious, worrisome, or sad results. Maybe when sleep is disrupted, the thought of breakfast including fresh maple syrup can sweeten dreams or at least make the night hours pass easier. Forty gallons of springtime sap into a few tablespoons of delight.

  • Hamburger Soup

    Another two big snowstorms are threatening our travel plans. Winter 2025 – 2026 isn’t willing to give up. Heavy snow, ice, cold temperatures, wind, have attacked almost every part of the country. If weather didn’t make leaving home difficult,  the stew of flu, Covid, colds and respiratory illnesses shut down schools and even the simplest vacation plans for a weekend visiting grandma and grandpa. Living in the communities impacted by ICE surges, emotional heaviness still exists. Rising costs, losing insurance coverage, changing political and values landscape, make temporary escape difficult to find.

    We’ve indulged in homey meals. Not necessarily fancy foods, but smells and tastes that bring back other times. Some of that has been European ethnic cooking with sausages, potatoes, onions and bread. Homemade pizza, order-in pizza, frozen pizza with sides of fruit. Grilled sandwiches with a cup of soup.

    Last week I made hamburger soup, what others might call vegetable soup with browned ground beef. My mother made her vegetable soup with chunks of cooked round steak, but we usually substituted ground beef because of easy freezer availability. The simple recipe made enough for three meals for the two of us with sides of bread slices and a chunk of cheese. 

    I was surprised at yuk faces when I shared our enjoyment of hamburger soup. Usually the frowns turned to memories of childhood when I described it as vegetable soup with burger. “Oh, yeah, that sounds good.” “That is comfort food.” “We ate that a lot when I was a kid.” It is all in the name.

    That is how I’m labeling this winter: The year of ICE and hamburger soup. It would be grand to be able to make vats of the stuff and feed some families still in hiding and people who are food insecure. We could leave out the burger to meet religious or personal preferences. But I’d love to add a crusty chunk of bread with each bowl to really fill everyone’s stomach. And hope that a touch of love gives the soup a dose of comfort.

  • Choosing to Believe

    A few weeks ago, I visited Pearl Harbor and the USS Arizona memorial. I wasn’t sure what to expect. My father was in the Navy during WWII at Normandy and later in the Pacific. I wanted to honor his service and the legacy of my parents’ generation who sacrificed and died to preserve our democracy.

    I stared into the water at the rusting sunken ship, which is a gravesite for more than 900 sailors. I wondered if they were young like Dad who signed up at 21, or if they had any idea what they were getting into when they joined the Navy. Pearl Harbor was a large naval base, but in 1941, it probably seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing important. Until it was bombed.

    USS Arizona Memorial

    In his later years, Dad said matter-of-factly, “War is hell.” He didn’t favor patriotic parades or ever make a big deal out of his service. Much as he hated war, he was also profoundly committed to preserving democracy. 

    Standing on deck of the memorial with the breeze rippling the water and lifting my hair, I didn’t feel a deep connection to Dad. Instead I felt frustrated, angry, and deeply sad that 85 years later, our country’s democracy is crumbling. I want to apologize to all the people who sacrificed and died so we wouldn’t see a day when the Current Occupant would engage us in a senseless war, trash our relationships with our international allies, and run roughshod over citizens’ constitutionally protected rights.

    I am worried about our country’s future. We certainly weren’t perfect 10 years ago or 20 years ago, but at least democracy was viable and mostly functioning then.

    More recently, I heard Yo-Yo Ma perform with the Minnesota Symphony Orchestra, and the music was as exceptional and moving as I expected. When he came out to play an encore, he alluded to Minnesota’s ordeal with ICE and our impressive community spirit. The audience clapped long and loud, grateful to be seen and acknowledged. Ma described the piece by Pablo Casals he intended to play. He said the music gets so quiet it almost disappears and there is fragility in the moment, but the music grows and fragility becomes strength.

    I am choosing to believe that as fragile as our democracy is right now, too many of us believe in it to let it disappear, so it will grow strong again.