Saturday, April 9, 2011


Childhood memory.
When I was younger, and living in the Valley (in Edmonton, Ky) I used to collect black walnuts (pictured above) I'd peel them open and toss them by the bucketfuls into an old pot my parents let me play with.  I'd add other things, like berries, clay, leaves, wild onions and such, telling my brother that all of these added ingredients ensured that the color would never wash out of anything you soaked in it.  I'd let the putrid smelling liquid "cook" in the sun for days, then soak old t-shirts in it, or draw designs with it (On my brother, that is.).  I was always making some concoction, calling it witches' brew, and threatening Jason (my brother) with it.  I even got him to sip some a time or two.  He always was forgetful when it came to things like that. 
This particular black walnut I got in a park a couple of falls ago.  The kids, remembering the story, brought it to me with the idea that I would show them how to make the "brew".  I plucked it out of Miah's hand, and brought it to my nose.  Breathing deeply, the summers of my childhood rushed back to me.   The scent, I swear, I can still smell even years later.  It's funny how a smell can do that to you.

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