Memories, memories

It was about this time of year during a winter very much like this one that Rick and I were helping his dad out after he had taken back some farm ground that he had sold and the buyer couldn’t make the payments. There was a lot of work to catch up on to get that land back into pasture. One wonderful Sunday after noon we decided to go out and burn out some ditches. It didn’t really matter what direction the wind was blowing because there were ditches going every direction and the fires couldn’t really go anywhere they shouldn’t go, so we were just working up one ditch and down another. Mostly burning bean straw out of the bottoms of the ditches. 

All of a sudden the wind switched directions. Not just a little swing, but a full on repentance, it has been coming from the southeast and suddenly it was coming from the northwest. As soon as it changed we looked to the northwest and what we saw made us cringe. Coming over the “Three Sisters,” the hills across the river to the north was a snow squall. We were out in the middle of the fields across the county road from our place, probably a good half-mile from our house, far enough west to be at least half a mile from Dad’s house and didn’t even have a vehicle with us. 

We knew immediately that we were going to get wet and probably cold, but we had no idea just how cold and wet. When that squall hit us, it was an instant blizzard. One minute the sun was shining and the next we couldn’t see anything, not our house, not the county road, not Dad’s house. We could literally see nothing but white and that snow was cold, wet and wind driven. It plastered against us, coating us in nearly an inch of snow, but it was warm enough that it started melting instantly. 

We could do nothing but rake piles of the bean straw together and try to keep the fire going until the squall passed. It didn’t last very long, probably not over 10-15 minutes. That time during the midst of it when we couldn’t see anything, though, seemed like a lot longer than that. I would never have imagined that I would get claustrophobic in the middle of a field in March, but I certainly did. It really spooked me. I wouldn’t let Rick move over 10 feet from me because I couldn’t see him if he did. 

Like I said, it couldn’t have lasted more that 10-15 minutes, and when it left, it left. One minute the snow was so thick we couldn’t see, and the next the sun was shining and the clouds were gone. Except for the snow on us and the ground it was like it never happened. It kind of dampened our weed burning, though. It put enough moisture on the bean straw that we couldn’t get it to burn, so we gave up and came home. 

The weed burning had to wait for another day and we had a memory that we still talk about. 

Apricot Glazed Corn Beef

3-3½ pound corned beef brisket, well trimmed

1 tablespoon whole mixed pickling spices

1 medium onion, finely chopped 

½ cup apricot preserves

½ cup golden raisins

1 tablespoon lemon juice or vinegar

¼ teaspoon dry mustard or ground ginger

1/8 teaspoon salt

Place corned beef brisket in Dutch oven, cover with water, add pickling spices. Heat to boiling’ reduce head. Cover and simmer until tender. 2-3 hours. Cool brisket in broth at room temperature for 1 hour the place beef in shallow roasting pan. Mix remaining ingredients and spread over beef, roast uncovered in 325º oven until hot and glazed. About 30 minutes. Cut across grain into thin slices.