BEAN JUICE ~ by Square Nail

It was depression time when I was a child, my Father, Mother and sister lived in Visalia, Ca. My Father built the house out of adobe, it sat back on the lot because in the front yard there was a large garden that produced a lot of food for the household. At times, my Mother would stand in the W.P.A. line to get food - mostly the food that was given was beans, rice and salt pork. At our house we ate white, pinto, lima and black beans. My Mother made a statement to the family "If the children of this time were to take a blood test they would find it would be 98% bean juice."

Later my Father worked in a gas station and my Mother had a 5 and 10 cent store in Farmersville, California.

In July of these years, my Mother would take needles, thread, buttons and lace from the store and would head out to Three Rivers, California. Mom would ask an Indian lady who lived along the river permission to enter her property to pick black berries. My Mother, my sister and myself would pick berries all day or until the car was full of berries. Every dish, can, bucket, tub and bowl was filled. Mother got home and that evening the first thing was to make a berry cobbler. The rest of the berries were canned or jammed so it would last all winter. Hence, I will always remember the warm cobbler as it came out from the oven and the smell as it filled our small kitchen.

These are memories I treasure, and wanted to share with my friends.

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