I came across this Jack-in-the-Pulpit while I was walking. It immediately took me back to being an eight-year-old in Brookfield, playing Mountain Climbers. We used to play this game for days on end. There was stack of firewood that had all sort of organically shaped nooks for storing items. We used to pretend we were pioneers gearing up for the winter. We would store various items in the various cubbies. We would prepare meals and salads of all the items we found. Somehow, we always knew not to eat them...thank goodness. We had cubbies that served as ovens, cubbies that served as refrigerators and cubbies that served as pure dry storage. We would forage all over the neighborhood, traveling blocks and blocks to pick deep eggplant colored sumac flowers (which, in case you haven't noticed smell like raspberries), Queen Anne's Lace roots plucked out, sliced with stone knives like carrots, or these Jack-in-the-Pulpits, which we called corn. It all involved creativity. It all involved fake food...hmmmm...
Friday, October 02, 2009
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