Mom stood at the kitchen counter rapidly stirring the contents of a bowl. Dropping my school books onto the table and grabbing a cookie, I went to perch on my old highchair step stool and propped my feet up on one of the chrome and red plastic kitchen chairs. Mom asked, “How was your day?”

Unable to come up with a short, one or two word answer, I shrugged and grunted, then took another bite from the cookie. Nothing really interesting had happened. Swallowing, I asked, “What are you making?”

Mom said, “Sweet and sour heart and tongue. Do you remember the cow we butchered last week? I made a big batch and canned several quarts of it today.” Continue reading →