Vegetable Trauma

Rain's Thursday Art Date theme for this week is a scary one,
and at least one item in this photo can send me running from the kitchen in horror.

An Array of Vegetables

Wikimedia 

"Vegetables?" you ask.

Yes vegetables.  I have suffered from vegetable trauma all my life,

and addressing Rain's theme of Vegetables brings the horror to the surface.  

Don't tell me you're supposed to eat vegetables multiple times a day for your health, 

or God-forbid you are a vegetarian.  

Swallowing vegetables is a struggle for me every day.

Look at the next photo, horrors from my childhood.

I remember gagging on limp boiled cabbage, bitter orange turnips,

ghastly celery root, and scratchy beet greens.

The Stuff of Nightmares ~ Cabbages, Celery Root, Turnips, and Beets

Portobello Road, London, UK

May 29,  2014

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

All Rights Reserved 

I have been probing my earliest vegetable memories for this post 
to understand my aversion to this healthy food group.
My mother started it with turnips.

Mom Studying at Acadia University

Wolfville, Nova Scotia, Canada

1947

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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Now, I'm not sure what has happened with turnips in recent decades,
because most vegetables and fruits have metastasized.
Turnips have shrunk.
When I was a kid in Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island (PEI), 

turnips were the size of candlepin bowling balls.
My mother would boil those bowling balls up, 

mash them with butter and pepper, and plop a pile on my plate.

Need I say more?

Wikimedia

My mother suffered from Graves disease and Graves eye disease 

when I was a young girl, so perhaps I should forgive her for the turnips.

To ease the burden on my mother during several summers,

I was shipped off to Morell, PEI, to stay with Nana's sister, my Great Aunt Maude,
Aunt Maude's thing was beet greens.
They were full of iron, and iron was essential to growing bodies.

Beets with Beet Greens Attached

Wikimedia

Aunt Maude would boil those beet greens up 

and drop them on my plate swimming in vinegar and butter.
Those red veins were so full of iron they would scratch going down my throat.
Sometimes they would get hung up.

Aunt Maude (upper left)  and her Siblings:  Belle, Myrtle, and Chester 

St. Peter's Bay, Prince Edward Island, Canada

Circa 1905

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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Sometimes during the winter my brother and I had dinner with Nana,

again to ease the burden on my mother.

Nana conveniently lived next door, and her thing was parsnips.

She thought parsnips were particularly important for the development of strong bodies.

Parsnips with Carrots

Wikimedia

Imagine that dirt-covered, vampire-pale thing roasted and placed on your plate.
Aside from its wretched taste, it was stringy.  At least it wasn't boiled.

Nana ~ Myrtle Jane Pratt MacBeath

Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island, Canada

Circa 1910

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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My father's family weren't the only culprits traumatizing me with vegetables.

Some summers it was off to Smith's Cove, Nova Scotia, 

to stay with Grammie, Mom's mother.

Grammie with Roy and Me

Smith's Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada

Summer of 1952

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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I remember sitting on Grammie's back steps many times 

preparing yellow wax beans for supper.

I'd snip off the pointy end, detach the cap at the opposite end,

and pull the string from the back of the pod.

If I didn't do a good job with each pod, someone would be eating a nasty string,

in addition to the pale yellow, waxy pods with hard little gray-green beans inside.

Yellow Wax Beans

Wikimedia

I remember reading a scene in Paul Malmont's brilliant pulp fiction novel,  

The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril.

The requisite damsel in distress was being attacked by a slavering monster, and I quote:

"She tumbled back under the force of its weight and landed heavily on her back.  

The impact knocked the wind out of her and she began to struggle,

desperate to get the creature off her so she could catch her breath.

She clawed at its face with her fingernails, and it pushed away from her in pain.  

The texture of its face reminded her of the yellow wax beans

she had prepared as a little girl."

 (Malmont, Paul, The Chinatown Death Cloud Peril, Simon & Schuster, New York, 2006, p. 262.)

Do you know how many yellow wax beans you have to de-string for a family supper?

A lot. And then you have to eat them.

I'll bet Malmont detested yellow wax beans as well. 

If that wasn't enough trauma, sometimes I would stay with Great Grammie down the road.
One of this venerable lady's claims to fame was home remedies for what ailed you.

Great Grammie ~ Sara Cossaboom

Smith's Cove, Nova Scotia, Canada

Circa 1967

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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She was well-versed in medicinal teas, healing soups,
and such delights as mackerel poultices for your chest.
And if you had a cough, well, there was boiled onions in a sugar water syrup.

Onions with Onion Rings

Wikimedia

I coughed a lot.
Decades later I discovered that I had chronic asthma much of my life.

I can remember sitting in GG's parlor (not the front parlor - that was for special guests)
playing Chinese checkers or working a jigsaw puzzle with her and praying not to cough.

Now, boiled onions in a sugar water syrup 

was bad enough when the concoction was warm.
Imagine waking up in the night, coughing desperately into your pillow,

and hearing GG call out, "Take your medicine, Weesie!"

I would dutifully spoon the congealed cold mess of onion rings and crystallized sugar

into my mouth and swallow; she would check in the morning.

She could hear me coughing into my pillow, downstairs, 

on the opposite side of her house, behind her closed bedroom door,
when she was asleep.
And my parents called me Big Ears!

And then there was Dad, who did NOT cook.
When Mom went into the hospital in Middleton, Nova Scotia, to have Bertie,
Donnie and Barbie shipped off to Charlottetown, PEI, presumably to deal with parsnips,
while Roy and I remained in Margaretsville to deal with 

more than a week of Dad's culinary efforts.

Dad with Me (to his upper left), Donnie (to his lower left), Barb, and Roy

Alymer, Ontario, Canada

1958 ~ About a Year Before Bertie Was Born

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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Every night that Mom and Bertie were in the hospital,
long before the days of drive-thru baby deliveries,
Dad served up fried eggs with canned spinach floating in vinegar.

Dad brooked no nonsense at the table.

If any of us refused to eat something, it showed up for the next meal, and the next,

or even the next, until the recalcitrant one was starving and ate it.

Spinach petrifies me to this day, especially anywhere near an egg.

Spinach and Eggs

Wikimedia

And in the North!

Consider canned peas, canned carrots, or canned cream style corn 

of questionable age,

stored in a warehouse in Nakina, Ontario, 

then dragged for weeks or  months by tractor train across frozen lakes and muskeg

to the Hudson Bay Post in Lansdowne House

there to languish until they landed under the counter in our kitchen.

Cat Train in Alaska

This is the closest image I could find to the reality.

Wikimedia

Says Mom,  "Weeser, did you check to make sure the cans weren't bulging

before you put the vegetables on to cook?"

They were the perfect foil for the powdered mashed potatoes.

Now, I haven't even touched on the joys of squash, broccoli, 

Brussel sprouts, and dulse.

Some of the world's best dulse grows in the Bay of Fundy. 

Bay of Fundy

In the interest of brevity, 

I'll mention only one more trauma-inducing vegetable I had to eat.

Remember not cleaning your plate was not tolerated in our household.

There were starving children in China you know.

Check out this photograph.  Maritimers eat something in this picture!

Codroy Valley, Newfoundland, Canada

Summer of 2011

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

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Roll those puppies up into tight curls just popping out of the ground,

and you've got fiddleheads!

 Fiddleheads Before They've Unrolled into Ferns

Wikimedia

OMG, Maritimers love these so much, they've erected a statue to them!

Statue of a Maritime Delicacy, the Fiddlehead

St. John, New Brunswick, Canada

Wikimedia

Wash 'em well, boil 'em up, douse 'em in butter and vinegar, and eat.

I kid you not.

Just looking at them in a photograph makes me gag.

Cooked Fiddleheads

Wikimedia

And that vegetable that could send me running from the kitchen in horror?

Okra!  Just the thought of it makes my throat clench. 

So don't look at me askance for disliking vegetables.

Vegetable trauma in childhood has left me with vegetable PTSD. 

And for Nicole's  Friday Face Off, in addition to the family faces in my post, 

a final photo of another nightmare inducing vegetable:

Ents at the Bellagio Conservatory

Las Vegas, Nevada, USA

November 9, 2014

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

All Rights Reserved 

This is one post I'm glad to put to bed!

Take care!

Till next time ~
Fundy Blue

  My next post will be on 

Friday, February 17, 2023  🤞

On the Bay of Fundy
© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue
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The weather in Honolulu has been drizzly, cloudy, and windy.

Today (Thursday) we have wind warnings for Honolulu 

for wind gusts up to 50 or 60 mph (80.4 to 96.5 kph).

But the wild weather has its benefits, like a fabulous rainbow.  

I saw this from our lanai this morning:

Honolulu Rainbow

Honolulu, Hawaii USA

February 9, 2023

© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue

All Rights Reserved