Pickling Beets...45º a bit foggy.

 Making beet pickles brings back memories for me, memories from long ago...

In 1966 Herb was transferred with the Forest Service to Duchesne, Utah, 500 miles from his parents and my Mom...Bobbi was four years old and Rusty just one year old...A UHaul truck was rented, loaded with the help of friends, Bobbi rode with Herb...Rusty and our dog Pooh, rode with me, in our Volkswagen Bus...We made our home in Duchesne for the next seven years.

So what does this have to do with "pickled beets?" Most years for the next seven summers, (Herb was always fighting fires or on standby waiting to be sent on a fire,) so I loaded up the kids and we returned home for a visit with Grandparents and on the way to and from, we stopped (sometime overnight) for a visit, with my Aunt Carrie and Uncle Harold in Twin Falls, Idaho...They were gracious hosts, a meal and a bed was always waiting for us...AND a ride in Uncle Harold's Plymouth car to get a  watermelon...On the way back to Utah, we stopped again and this time we went to a local farm to get beets, to take with us to Duchesne and make pickled beets...Herb and I loved pickled beets, don't think either of the kids really cared about them. 

Those early trips were the highlight of our summer, until we bought a boat, then we spent all our spare time on the newly built Starvation Reservoir...That brings up all kinds of memories...Hugs To All...OWAV:)

Beets, soon to be cooked,

peeled, sliced and made

into pickles.