NEWS FROM THE HILLS
May is weeping springtime tears upon hills and fields that are tender with new life. From blade of grass to mighty tree, from woodland glade to mountaintop, all have been brushed with green from the Master’s palette.
May—perhaps the most delightful month in our hills. With wildflowers in her hair and the song of the lark on her lips, she skips her merry way though the sun-filled days. She touches the roses with a crimson blush, sprinkles dew sparkles on the spider webs, and flings a handful of bright butterflies at the sweet-scented honeysuckle vine.
She fluffs up the fleecy white clouds to grace the blue sky and wafts a gentle breeze to cool the baby birds in their nest. She is so fond of pink—she sends a cool pink sunrise, and closes the day by sending a rose-pink sunset.
The river sparkles, th e silvery fish dart through the water, and the sun smiles down on our hills. If I only had one month each year to spend in the hills, I think it would be the month of May—or maybe October.
The dogwood trees, with their white, cross-shaped blossoms tinged with brown, are in full bloom across the countryside. Legend says that the cross of Christ was made of wood from the dogwood tree, and seeing its distress at the use of this wood, He made a promise that it would never again be used for this purpose.
Instead, the once-stately tree would grow small and twisted, and the flower petals would be shaped like a cross with blood-stained edges. The center of the blossom would resemble a crown of thorns, so that all who observed it would remember His death upon the cross.
Of course, this is merely a legend, but I always think of the cross of Christ when I see the dogwood in bloom. One of the most beautiful sights in the spring is a hillside thickly sprinkled with blooming dogwood and pink redbud.
The trilliums are in bloom now, pristine white blossoms that almost shine on the forest floor. Some folks call them “wild cabbage” and say they make excellent cooked greens. I don’t think I could sacrifice their beauty for a mess of greens. The dogtooth violet, or trout lily, also makes good greens, but they too are a beautiful flower.
We spent a few days at my brother Larry’s camp on William’s River a couple of weeks ago, and it was a restful experience. The weather was perfect, warm and sunny. We were lulled to sleep by the song of the spring peepers and rushing water of the river.
My sister-in-law Alice and I sat on the bank of the river and watched the swift water as it rushed and swirled around the immense boulders that were scattered in the riverbed. The tranquility of the scene soothed away cares and worries, and we felt the presence of God in a real way.
I thought of how this river has flowed on ceaselessly for thousands of years, and of how generations of people have come and gone. Yet on and on it flows. It makes a person realize how mortal we really are. Everyone needs a place such as this, when the cares of life weigh heavily on your shoulders. It is a place of renewal, a secluded place to meet with God, and gather new strength for the journey.
We had a letter from John Mason of Hurricane, concerning the “Quiet Dell Murders.” He said that he heard the story every time his family made the trip from Tallmansville to Clarksburg (passing through Quiet Dell) when he was a child. While he was visiting his mother in Buckhannon a few days ago, his cousin who is majoring in WV lore, came by.
His cousin volunteered the information that the song was called, “Ballad of the Bluebeard of Quiet Dell.” He said that information concerning the crime could be found at Harrison County Public Library. (Now my curiosity is aroused!)
We also had a letter from Donna Carr of Charleston, answering the request for pie meringue without cream of tartar. It sounds very good, and Donna adds that she uses it every time she makes a meringue pie.
NEVER FAIL MERINGUE
1 tablespoon cornstarch
2 tablespoons cold water
½ cup boiling water
3 egg whites
6 tablespoons sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla
pinch of salt
Blend cornstarch and cold water in saucepan; add boiling water and cook, stirring until clear and thickened. Let stand until completely cold. With electric mixer at high speed, beat egg whites until foamy. Gradually add sugar and beat until stiff, but not dry. Turn mixer to low speed, add salt and vanilla. Gradually beat in cold cornstarch mixture.
Turn mixer to high again and beat well. Spread meringue over cooled pie filling. Bake at 350, until lightly browned.
In answer to a previous request, Judy Hanson of Pliny sends the words to the song “All Because You Kissed Me Good Night.”
I climbed up the door, and opened the stairs,
I said my pajamas, and put on my prayers,
I put out the clock, and wound the cat up tight,
And all because you kissed me “Good Night!”
I powdered my hair and pinned up my nose,
I took off my covers and pulled down my hose,
I turned off the bed, and crawled into the light,
And all because you kissed me “Good Night!
Judy adds. “This really tells my age!
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