CAMAS LILY

Several years ago DH and I were traveling through south central Idaho in late May across an area called Camas Prairie.  In every wild meadow I could see the haze of acres of tall blue flowers.  I wondered what big blue wild flower was growing all over Camas Prairie.  Duh.

Blue Camas grows wild in the middle altitudes of the 
western United States and British Columbia.

The plant comes from a bulb similar to that of a tulip.  Camas bulbs were a staple food source for many native people long before white explorers arrived.  The bulbs were pit-roasted or boiled.  When dried they were pounded into flour which was used to make a bread.

Lewis and Clark wrote about seeing the “quawmash in blume” and how the meadow 

“resemhles a lake of fine clear water.”..." [Clark, June 12, 1806, at Weippe Prairie, Idaho]

I was able to purchase some Camas bulbs and I planted them in my garden.  

They have thrived and every spring there are more. 

 I’ve never tried boiling them, but I understand they taste something like sweet potato but sweeter.

SUBJECT TO INTERPRETATION

(A reworking of an old post)

During a discussion about poetry analysis my brother pointed out that, “The nice thing about being the reader is I get to choose what I think it means.” This is very true; and the correct answer to, “What does it mean?” when applied to paintings, music, dance, literature, even scripture, may be---“What do you want it to mean?’ This even changes depending on your current circumstances.

You find this out, especially when you think you are teaching children. Words can be confusing. 

You discover years later that your children really think they were born in a barn. They learn how to toss cooked liver behind the sofa when you say, “You’ll sit there until your plate is clean.” They learn religion when you tell them, “You’d better pray that comes out of the carpet.” In fact they learn no matter how bad the injury to NEVER BLEED ON THE CARPET. And, “If you’re going to kill each other, do it outside. I just finished cleaning.” Or, “When the lawn mower cuts off your toes, don’t come running to me.” You tell them they need to wear clean underwear in case they are in an accident until they find out, if you are in a bad accident it usually doesn't matter if your underwear was clean before it happened. 

You try to teach them logic, “If you fall out of that swing and break your neck, you’re not going to the store with me.” Or, how about, “Will you look at that dirt on your neck!” But my favorite is, “One day you’ll have kids and I hope they turn out just like you.” It is true revenge when your adult children complain that they hear their parents’ words coming out of their own mouths. But, then, it is all subject to interpretation.

WATER, WATER

We spent two days at a place in Utah where Barbies live in the bathtub.

Utah experts say their mountains have received something like 

four hundred percent of average precipitation over the past few months. 

To say spring runoff is filling streams is an understatement. 

The Bear River runs just a couple of hundred yards from our daughter’s home in Logan. 

 Sandbagging to contain the overflow was a wasted effort.

 Now that street is closed and barricaded to prevent through traffic.

Daughter’s house has a sump pump for keeping ground water out of the basement.

 

 The pump has been running almost constantly.  

The outlet shoots a small geyser up in the back yard 

just downhill from the house.

 The night we were there MORE snow fell on the surrounding mountains

 and it rained most of the day. 

 The silver lining to all the storm clouds is 

the closed street has become a great place for walking and riding bicycles.

 Just put on a helmet, get out that two-wheeler and GO.

 Of course water is an even bigger draw. 

 So much so that bicycle helmets stay on during a careful wading expedition.