At first they just took enough for them to eat. Then they started sharing with other relatives. They couldn’t stand to see all the good fruits and vegetables hauled to the dump. They even developed their own recipe, making a fruit marmalade with overtones of melon. A case of grapes was spread out to dry and soon turned into plump, juicy raisins. Mushrooms lightly rinsed, sliced and dried in the oven on low heat and broccoli and cauliflower trimmed, blanched and frozen. This bonanza awaited them every week.
I arrived that summer for my annual visit. It was 1985, and I was fifty-three years old. I barley got my suitcase in the door when Mom said, “Della, come on change your clothes and let’s go check out the dumpster.”
We made nightly trips; sometimes driving by, other times stopping when we spied a promising box. One night in particular, I remember hanging down inside the dumpster with Mom holding onto my feet, while I reached for a cantaloupe, just an arm’s length away. Soon we were both laughing and I struggled to get out of the dumpster before I ended up on my head.
That year when I returned home, my car was loaded with new and interesting delicacy, everything gleaned from the dumpster. Looking back, I feel so glad Mom and Aunt Jessie had these years together. They enjoyed the hours around the quilting frame and excursions to the dumpster, laughing and having fun, forgetting about their differences.
Mom loved her years in Utah: the long growing season, warm nights and hot days where her garden produced an unbelievable amount of fresh produce. She picked fruit to can and vegetables at the peak of freshness for her dinner table. Peaches, tree ripened, were one of her favorites. I can still see her as she picked a ripe peach, brushed it on her pant leg to remove some of the fuzz and took that first bite, juice dripping from her chin and a smile as broad as the Great Salt Lake, spread across her face. to be continued Hugs to All...OWAV:)
PS...When we celebrated Moms 80th birthday, she made an appointment to have a family photo taken...We didn't ask where, just followed her directions to downtown Salt Lake City...The photographer lined us up, said smile, snapped the picture and said, I will mail the photo to your address...This was where Mom had her passport photo taken!..Not a great photo, but not a bad one.
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