Thursday, October 20, 2016


 

Pecan or Pecan

Most of my youth, and some of my adulthood, was spent on a small dairy farm.  At the time 316 acres seemed a giant of a place with fields, pastures, uncut woods, small streams (I still call them creeks), the barnyard and outbuildings and, of course, the old house we called home.  

In front... the front yard naturally, with a front porch and the living room which was a little hard to understand to me because it was reserved for visitors and Christmas.

on the west side back was the "Back door" which opened into the kitchen and was always the point of entry into the house.  For one thing it was closest to the driveway and more importantly to the dairy barn and every thing that happened.

 Directly across the driveway was three of the best things about living on a farm.

Two old pecan trees and one walnut tree forming a triangle  all of which were huge and possible planted in the late 1800's. They all three forked about 5 or 6 feet off the ground and were linked on two of the triangle sides with clothes line wire.

It was a magical place to play in when the sheets were hung on the line.  I could imagine myself anywhere my young mind could conceive.

Not every year, but, maybe every 3rd year the pecan trees would be loaded with nuts.  The walnut tree was sort of old fashioned and steadily provide black walnuts every year.  But the pecan trees were special.

 For one thing, well.. the every 3rd year thing, but mostly because of the fun of eating those wonderful nuts. And besides, the pecans were a lot easier to crack.

You see the walnuts would drop in their thick green husk which then turned black and would stain your skin clothes or anything else they came in contact with. So you either had to wait until that had decayed and then you could smack the nut with a hammer, or a rock if that was handy.  And then you better have a nail flattened on the end ( 8 penny nails were a perfect size.  While the pecan husks would open while on the tree and then drop those brown and black striped nuts which my mom and dad could crack easily in their hands and the meat would almost naturally fall out in two halves.  (better not use too much force though, or you'd crush the halves and would have to hunt and peck for the pieces.

It was a great time to be young and alive.

But, for all my 60 some odd years the controversy has raged.  Even before that and I'm sure even long into the future.

How do you pronounce the word Pecan?

I personally say pa Khan and others say Pee can.  

Each looks at the other as being backwoods or unlettered, perhaps putting on airs in an effort to be seen as superior to the other as if it were a matter of world shaking importance.  Perhaps ranking up there with whether to get a tattoo or not, maybe even as high as whether your drive a Ford or a Chevy.

Maybe it doesn't really matter.

Maybe it really only matters if you eat them in your brownies or your  scrumptious paKahn pie!  

  

 

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