Last Updated: 11 March 2001
DOG DAYSand Mummaleeka Cake Recipe by Lillian Hein Remmick |
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Copyrighted 1994 All rights are reserved. This story, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission. Published by Remmick-Hubert Corp.221 Main Street, Suite 1300, San Francisco, California, 94105 |
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[Pps. D-92 to D-99]
The late days of July and most of August which were unusually hot were called "Dog Days". Once I asked why they were called dog days and was told it was a time when dogs some times went mad because of the extreme heat. It this is true or not I really don't know. It was the time when the grain turned into golden sea waving in the hot wind and binders in the fields would be cutting grain and trying it into bundles. Then every available person would be out there following the binders picking up bundles and forming them into schocks. This was called shocking. One would hold a bundle upright and several bundles would be leaned securely around the one up-right and left to dry. This was repeated until the whole field because a mass of golden shocks.
"Then every available person would be out there following the binders picking up bundles and forming them into schocks".
We would be dressed in navy blue bib overalls, long sleeved blue chambray shirts, sensible shoes, gloves and a wide brimmed straw hats to protect us from the sun.
There was a lot of comradery involved as we laughed, teased, and chattered as we worked. All farm children old enough to work, girls and boys alike, would do this work and it never was thought of as drudgery as it was simply a necessary part of a farm child's existence. Especially if you were an American born of Russian German parents. It was also a time for wild choke cherry and wild grape pickings. Dressed in our usual bib overalls, long sleeved blue chambray shirts buttoned snugly at the writs,and over wide brimmed straw hats we'd gather up every available milk bucket and head for the wilderness along the Yellowstone River.
After eating our fill and all buckets were full to the brim we'd head for home. At the plump by the old well we'd set up tubs and while one would pump so the water gushed over the berries, others would skin and wash until the berries were sparkling clean. Then on to the summer kitchen where the next day the aroma of jellies being made would fill the air. If you've never eaten choke cherry or wild grape jelly you've missed a wonderful treat. Mother sometimes made wine from the excess berries which she would brew in the large twenty gallon crocks before bottling, however, the making of it is still a mystery to me.
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