web analytics

Yes, but is it art?

Uncle B harvested the onions today — a bit early, but they’d bulbed up nicely and he needed the space. And here they are, clipped to the plastic thing he used for air-drying his socks when he lived in a small flat.

What? I thought it was brilliant.

Gotta run…we have a friend visiting tomorrow and I have to scrape the uppermost archeological layer of filth off the place.

sock it to me

Comments


Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: July 27, 2010, 10:35 pm

That really is an awful picture.

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 27, 2010, 10:38 pm

Oh, I’m sorry, Mister Smarty. Some thing’s just don’t translate to black and white all that well.

 


Comment from Mrs. Compton
Time: July 27, 2010, 10:40 pm

Oh good, while you’re busy you mind if I ask everyone for some help? Everyone is so clever I just know they will want to help me name my new chili red mini cooper. I either want someone cute and funny or dark and dangerous or Enlgishie.

Oh and what do you have planned for all those onions? And I also wondered about those carrots the other day. Is that all the carrots you’ll have for the season? Just what you got from that little pot… or do you have more little pots?

 


Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: July 27, 2010, 10:52 pm

Lots more of just about everything on the way, Mrs Compton.

Not sure about the name…. The world’s hottest chili is said to be the naga jolokia. But what sort of name is that for a car?

 


Comment from Allen
Time: July 27, 2010, 10:57 pm

Mrs. C, “Morris the Masher”

Is that a picture of Wicker Man with a genetic mutation?

 


Comment from Uncle Badger
Time: July 27, 2010, 11:36 pm

I might add, the onions smell far more pungent than my socks ever did.

But wait – there’s more!

In honour of Our Guest, her stoatiness waved an imperious claw in the general direction of the spring onions this evening and said ‘Oh, and some of those too…’

I am expecting Hans Brix to appear at any moment with a UN team of ‘experts’ to assure the world that they are safe.

Which, clearly, they are not.

How can people eat this stuff?!?

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: July 27, 2010, 11:44 pm

It isn’t the fact that they eat them that you should be worried about, it is what follows about 12 hours later when you are both under the covers..

ESPECIALLY if the onions (or as the Cajuns say On-Yons) grew in high sulfer soil……

 


Comment from Mrs. Compton
Time: July 27, 2010, 11:47 pm

I had onion soup for dinner last night….

 


Comment from S. Weasel
Time: July 27, 2010, 11:53 pm

I was weaned on an onion. Onions are a bit of a family fetish. Mother put onions (among the toys) in our stockings at Christmas. The centerpiece on the dining room table was onions.

My grandmother loved them so dearly, she ate them in spite of terrible stomach ulcers. Hours after dinner, she’d be doubled over in pain, but she didn’t care.

I’m okay with cooked onions, but raw onions fly through me like a short, thrilling carnival ride.

 


Comment from Og
Time: July 28, 2010, 12:33 am

Heh! We have onions draped all over our woodstove right now. It was a great year for onions. Wait, it was our first year for onions. It was great anyhow. Not quite sure where to store them once they dry. Maybe we can eat them all before wood burning season.

 


Comment from Deborah
Time: July 28, 2010, 12:51 am

Oh, oh … delicate, delicious onions. I would cook a pot of pinto beans, bake a big pan of corn bread, and pass the yummy onions. (and iced tea so sweet and cold it makes your teeth ache)

 


Comment from Scubafreak
Time: July 28, 2010, 2:30 am

UB, i see many interesting nights of you and Stoatie pushing each other’s heads under the covers at “inopportune’ times……. 😉

 


Comment from Pavel
Time: July 28, 2010, 2:57 am

I am so agriculturally illiterate I didn’t even know you needed to dry onions. That’s why I come here: to learn about chickens and onions. And corn.

 


Comment from The jannie
Time: July 28, 2010, 5:38 am

I read somewhere that the ancient Egyptians ate whole raw onions. Maybe that’s what really mummified them . . .

 


Comment from David Gillies
Time: July 28, 2010, 5:53 am

Buddy of mine (moved to Norway; see last post) used to eat raw onions like normal people eat apples. Scorching case of halitosis? Nope, not in the slightest. I get through them by the dozen, but usually cooked. Tomorrow night it’s brats in balsamic + beer onion reduction. Yay!

 


Comment from Nina from GCP
Time: July 28, 2010, 9:22 am

The only way I’ll eat onions is if you purée ’em and then cook with ’em. Don’t like the texture otherwise, but do like the flavor.

Being an avid gardener is on my list of requirements for a perfect man. Not that I’ve found him, of course…the perfect man probably wants the perfect woman, and that definitely let’s me out.

 


Comment from Nina from GCP
Time: July 28, 2010, 9:24 am

All errors in the above post are the fault of the iPhone, I swear.

 


Comment from Becca
Time: July 28, 2010, 1:14 pm

Deborah, that meal is exactly the food I grew up on. Except Mama would add fried potatoes. Shock paddles optional.

Green onions were put on the table for quite a few meals. It was just another side dish.

And, here in Kentucky, sweet (is there any other kind?)tea is put into babies’ sippy-cups.

 


Comment from Princess Bernie
Time: July 28, 2010, 2:12 pm

Becca, I’m in Kentucky, too. What general geographic part are you planted in?

 


Comment from Sporadic Small Arms Fire
Time: July 28, 2010, 2:20 pm

Uncle Badger dried his socks?? Is that what he told you? Dried kipper herring is more like it!

A Britisher footwear consists of bullrush sandals for the elders and medicine men. Those of lower tribal rank do without. A traditionalist society who views modernity and continental influences with suspicion. Flint-worship is big, and so is arte of buggerie and poachynge of Her Majesties rabbytes.

Just about only good thing that ever came out of the blighty gannet-guano covered island is Parson Russell Terrier. Fortunately there seems to be a size limitation to these beasts as they would wipe out lions and large bears if given about 50# bulk.

 


Comment from Some Vegetable
Time: July 28, 2010, 4:57 pm

Since I don’t know beans about onions I’ll make some stabs at naming a red Mini

Johnny.
As in Johnny Red, as in Johnny Walker Red Label Scotch.

Will.
As in Will Scarlet, as in Robin Hood’s Merry Men

Bess. As in Queen Bess. As in the red-haired Queen Elizabeth I of England

Onion.
As in Red Onion. As in I really tried hard to fit this into the discussion

By the way, I got to walk into a meeting a little earlier this morning just as someone was saying “I had to look up the definition of Flagellation”.

I got to say, “The definition of Flagellation? Beats me!”.

Not to speak badly of the the American education system, but only a few people laughed… :-) Still, I enjoyed it.

 


Comment from Mrs. Hill
Time: July 28, 2010, 7:15 pm

In these miserable days, it is nice to see that there are still a few gents who are not bereft of onions.

Some Vegetable,
Right, “flagellation” – not to be confused with “flageoletion,” which might also fit into this thread!? 😉

 


Comment from Bill (still the .00358% of your traffic that’s from Iraq) T
Time: July 28, 2010, 9:13 pm

Love onions. Fried, raw, souped — any way a-tall.

…I just know they will want to help me name my new chili red mini cooper.

In keeping with red, dangerous, and gratuitously referencing the gastro-intestinal distress some have alluded to: “Trotsky”…

 


Comment from Can’t hark my cry
Time: July 28, 2010, 9:27 pm

Mrs. Hill–Eyeroll!

 


Comment from Janna
Time: July 29, 2010, 2:48 am

I remember my grandmother would lay her onions down in rows and braid the stalks. When she needed an onion, she’d just cut the one off the bottom. She hung them in her kitchen. Prettier than a sock drying contraption…just sayin’
Her screen door would brush the tops of the spearmint plants she had planted by the back door. Smelled fresh and wonderful. Her kitchen was my favorite place as a child.

 


Comment from Becca
Time: July 29, 2010, 2:00 pm

Hi Bernie, I’m in Grayson County (Go Cougars!). One hour from Bowling Green, one hour from Louisville, and two hours from Nashville.

And you?

 


Comment from Princess Bernie
Time: July 29, 2010, 2:06 pm

Becca – Spencer County – just outside of Louisville. Have friends near Bowling Green.

 

Write a comment

(as if I cared)

(yeah. I'm going to write)

(oooo! you have a website?)


Beware: more than one link in a comment is apt to earn you a trip to the spam filter, where you will remain -- cold, frightened and alone -- until I remember to clean the trap. But, hey, without Akismet, we'd be up to our asses in...well, ass porn, mostly.


<< carry me back to ol' virginny