Loading...
The Rural Voice, 1988-08, Page 50Here's A Summer Dish The Whole Family Will Enjoy Your GENERAL INSTRUMENT Satellite System will give you • More choice • Up to 200 channels of home entertainment • Crisp, clear pictures • Digital stereo on VideoCipher channels "rr"iAS, sFu▪ ll one t wa soul, I frit ..\rfft 1 VideoCipher® II 2400R IRD Features • Built-in Receiver/Descrambler • Wireless Remote • Parental Supervision - block out unwanted channels • C- and Ku -band Compatible • 24 Satellite Position Memory • 10 Favourite Channel Recall Let us BUILD YOUR SYSTEM TODAY HANOVER 364-1011 LISTOWEL 291-4670 48 THE RURAL VOICE NOTEBOOK T he "Old Boy" insisted on planting a garden. Soon he was telling our friends I was so proud of it that I went to look at it every day. Little did he know, and I certainly wasn't about to tell him, that the only reason I went to the garden every day was to tell the veg- etables, "Look, if you know what's good for you, don't grow, for I don't want to can you." It didn't work. As the veggies insisted on growing, multiplying, and doing whatever else good veggies do, I decided it was prudent to go visiting for a while. Two and a half hours of driving brought me to my brother Dave's doorstep. I told him I had left my veggies. Like a good brother, he gave me shelter for the night. The next morning, his wife Elsie and I decided to visit my youngest sister Audrey, who lives on a farm two and a half hours farther north. As soon as we stepped into her porch, I knew I was in trouble. For there sat 75 pounds of veggies just waiting to be canned. "Audrey," I gasped, "where did you get those veggies?" "Bought 'em," she replied. "Why would anyone buy 75 pounds of cucumbers?" I asked as I felt her forehead to make sure that she wasn't running a temperature. "The price was right," Audrey replied nonchalantly. • by Coralie Adams Elsie and I looked at each other, then cried in unison, "What are you planning on doing to those cucum- bers? "I'm going to make dills," Audrey said, and promptly went off to milk the cow. Elsie and I looked at each other. We twiddled our thumbs. We cleared our throats. We looked out the win- dow. We paced. We knew it was coming and that we were powerless in the face of it. It took barely five min- utes from the time we stepped into that porch until we were both trembling mightily from a bad case of canning fever. "Let's get some jars and do up those cucumbers!" we yelled in unison. Up and down two flights of stairs we went, to and fro from the basement, hauling up every jar we could find. We filled them all. Quarts of them, gallons of them, and still there were cucumbers sitting there looking at us greenly, imploringly. Audrey returned with a pail of milk, surveyed the wreckage of her kitchen, and asked mildly, "What have you two been doing?" "We was struck by the cannin' fever!" I told her, "but we has plumb run out of jars!" Audrey set down her pail of milk, marched to the phone, and placed an emergency call to her neighbour. "Do you have any jars that you can spare?" The neighbour did. `Bring some