As I write this post, a pot of water bubbles merrily on the stove. Fresh ears of corn lie on the counter awaiting their terrifying plunge to the netherworld.
Ahem. Can you tell my head has been in fairy tale land for the past few weeks? Talia and Vina are anxious for me to finish their story and send off Taliasman to the publisher, but it’s not quite perfect yet. There’s something both fairy tale-ish and contemporary about their story, and I’m struggling to put it into words.
Writing used to come easily to me, and then I became a writer. 🙂
Lately, I’ve been enjoying fresh produce. Sweet strawberries, blueberries, cherries, melons…and one of my favorites, corn on the cob.
The local grocery store sells pre-husked cobs in tidy trays wrapped in plastic, but even lazy Ana gives those a pass. For me, husking corn brings back memories of crops from my godmother’s farm. What treat is lovelier than a bag full of sweet corn? Like the Little Red Hen’s chicks, I wasn’t interested in planting, caring for, or harvesting the crops. Instead, I came running at the sight of a brown paper grocery stack bursting with tufted green packages of delight.
Oh, and the husking! Neat freak Ana’s Mom couldn’t abide corn silk and husks in her kitchen, so I would bring my sackful of ears to the garage. I’d sit on the step (sweet cool concrete in the heat of summer, before air conditioning became prevalent), pull the garbage can close to me, and unwrap one layer of husk at a time. Unlike my parents who hated the bother, I took my time. Right down to the last bit of silk, I made the corn shiny, sparkly, and new.
Later when we spread butter on our corn and chased the hot, slippery cobs around our plates, I would take pleasure in the steaming rows of kernels on each cob of corn. From my godmother’s fields to my family table, I could take pride.
Today, as I tweak Taliasman and grumble because I can’t get the words exactly right, I’ll take pleasure in the work of my hands.
What will you husk today?