The pecans came a few weeks earlier this year.
I know this because I remember picking them up last year,
still great with child -
bending, kneeling, reaching,
feeling contractions and the fall breeze.
After the baby was born, my family came to visit
and they picked up a good many as well.
We sat around the table,
picking through the nuts and shells,
visiting and welcoming new babe.
This year I had all these collected by mid-October,
and the store down the road that advertises
Baits, Ammo, and Pecan Cracking,
was still closed for the season.
These bags had to wait until last Monday to be cracked.
40 cents a pound for cracking
or 50 cents a pound for
or 50 cents a pound for
cracking, shelling, and blowing.
I say, "Yes m'am" to 50 cents a pound
and the lady nods,"Pick'em up t'morrow."
Yes, 102 pounds of pecans.
And that doesn't include the ones I already gave away
to Grandma Doris, Mamaw Glenda,
or Hazel and James R.
They fell in spurts. More on windy days of course.
They are easier to spot after mid-morning,
when the sunlight reflects
a soft shine on the shell, like a satin finish.
Baby girl was on my hip this year,
or in the stroller,
or playing in the grass nearby,
or taking a nap.
I'm sure this will be our tradition around her birthday,
just as oldest son knows,
"The figs are getting ripe. That means it's almost my birthday."
What will I do with 102 pounds of pecans?
Well, first I put them up.
That means I pick out all the shells, and any of that brown bitter material that sometimes gets stuck in the grooves of the pecan.
The work is quite enjoyable, and lends itself to pleasant conversation.
Then I put the pecans in quart-size
freezer bags in my freezer.
That's it.
In the winter, we like to toast them
in an iron pan on the wood stove with a dab of butter and salt.
We also like to make Christmas turtles
with caramel and chocolate,
pecan pie, pecans sprinkled on salad, pecan pralines...
