Tell Me a Story about … a Pickle

/ legaciesletloose

         7-9-18 B (2)When I think of words which entice memories from all five senses, pickles come early on the list. I see mounded dirt covered with green vines, tiny hands moving the leaves to peek at midget cucumbers growing. I feel prickly skins as I scrubbed them prior to slicing and dicing for canning. I smell pervasive odors of onions and vinegar as we mixed them with the pickling 7-9-18 C (2)spices. And taste … ah, those canned bread and butter pickles, a bit sweet, a bit tart. My senses reel with the memories.

          “What about sound?” you say? Everyone knows the crunch of a crisp dill pickle, the slurp of a tongue catching the juice. But for me, the thought of a dill pickle brings a much different sound—that of an organ. Not playing hymns in church (whoever heard of dill pickles at a worship service!) but jazzing away with what I cherished as “skating music.”

7-9-18 F          At the roller rink where I spent my teen years, they offered live organ music to skate by. I can still hear lilting melodies perfect for free-spirited wheeling around the floor. Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” melted into “Rockin’ Robin” from the 1950s. We “shook, rattled, and rolled” with Bill Haley’s hit, then slowed for a couples’ skate to Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover.” Since it was the 1970s, they also played recorded music, but this girl’s heart came alive when the organist came off break and the real music began.7-9-18 A (2)

          “But what about pickles?” you ask. Ah, yes, pickles. The snack bar contained plenty to give hungry teenagers something to rebuild their energy: hot pizza, icy slushies, sweet candy, salty soft pretzels. I’d pay my quarter and watched the seller fish out a huge, dripping, forest green dill pickle from the humongous jar. I’d take it to a corner booth and crunch away, happy and satisfied with life at the skating rink.

7-9-18 E (2)          Today, another pickle brings me much joy, and since it IS Christmas-in-July time, let’s talk about it! Early in our daughters’ childhood, we found a unique ornament—a blown-glass pickle with a story. Always drawn to things with stories, we read how the pickle tradition started in Germany. Parents hid the ornament in the Christmas tree after the children fell asleep. Christmas morning found the kiddos scrambling to be the first to find the pickle, for the one who did received an extra gift! We bought that pickle and continue to hang it today, granting the find-ee a special gift (usually something to share with everyone—a box of Pop Tarts or cocoa).

          Pickles! When God created the cucumber, do you think He had any idea they’d fill a girl’s life from gardens to roller skating rinks to Christmas trees?

 *** What senses does the word “pickle” set off for you? Please, share your story! Click on the words beside the date of this post. Scroll down to the box with the heading, “Leave a reply.” Thank you for sharing!

*** Do you celebrate “Christmas-in-July”? We do! See how in next week’s blog!         

12 thoughts on “Tell Me a Story about … a Pickle”

  1. Hi Cathy,

    Pickles! I remember pickles at the roller rink. That was never my snack of choice but I do remember. I love that you got to skate to Glenn Miller music! I wouldn’t have appreciated his music in my teen years (in the 70’s) but I do now! However my roller skating years took place during — DISCO!!! People may say what they like about disco but it was awesome to skate or dance to! Met my husband at our roller rink But back to pickles!

    The first story that leaps to mind is the time my friend Pam was spending the night at my grandma’s house with me when we were maybe 13 years old. We were a goofy pair. We wanted to pretend we were having a glass of wine and making a toast, so what did we use for our pretend wine? Pickle juice! That’s right, we poured it from the pickle jar, made a toast, clinked glasses, sipped our pickle wine and made faces from the tartness, lol.

    The second memory is that episode of the Andy Griffith Show where Aunt Bee makes jars and jars of pickles. Andy and Opie hate them but don’t want to hurt her feelings so they pretend to like them. She gives them pickles every day and they throw them out. She thinks they are eating them so fast she’d better make another batch, which causes them to cringe at the thought. Then she decides to enter them in a pickle contest — and it just keeps going like that. In private they said the pickles tasted like kerosene, lolol.

    I do like pickles. Dill ones on my burgers, and sweet ones just to munch on sometimes. Now I’m getting hungry for one 🙂

    Thanks for the pickle memories. And we don’t celebrate Christmas in July, but I did watch the old movie Christmas in Connecticut movie just the other day 😉

    Blessings,

    Leafy

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    • Oh, Leafy, I wish WordPress had the different emoticons that Facebook has to mark “Like” on a post or comment! I’d click on the laughter one for sure! Since our kitchen door is wide open, I think the people down the road heard me laugh at your story of the pickle-juice-wine! I can picture two girls sitting and sipping their pickle-wine and breaking into fits of giggles! I just LOVE it! Did you use wine glasses or just regular ones?

      And yes, disco did make for some fun music to skate by … although that is ALL I will give in to! LOL! I think I mentioned disliking the music of my childhood, preferring the oldies and the country/western my parents loved.

      I don’t recall that episode of The Andy Griffith Show, but I’m going to look up its date and find it on Netflix to watch when I have lunch today. Maybe I’ll enjoy a pickle with it!

      Oh, how glad I am that you leave your stories for me to read! Thank you so much! Have a blessed week!

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  2. I remember the same things you do. Helping pick them out of the garden and helping get them ready to can. And oh my the skating rink pickles, yum!!! And I have an adult memory as well. Both of my children were in the Middle & High School Bands. Also two of my Grandsons as well. The boys ( my son & grandsons) played drums. My daughter played trumpet. Anyway my memory is this, my husband and I were Band Parents/Grandparents! We worked just about all Friday night homegames doing Concession Stand work. I’ve handled many huge dill pickles at those games and went home smelling like a cucumber, lol. My husband was known as “popcorn man”! I guess I was the “pickle queen”!!!! Oh my!!!!

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    • The “Pickle Queen”! Oh my, how delightful, Angie! It brought all sorts of scenarios and pictures to my mind as a writer! Veggie Tales has “Larry the Cucumber,” but Angie has “The Pickle Queen of County Dill”! I wish you could see my mind pictures right now. LOL!

      Thank you for sharing this story. I’m glad you stopped by and hope you do again. Also, check out the stories left by others. They are wonderful, too! Connecting and making new friends through memory-stories is what this blog is all about! Blessings!

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  3. Nice write-up, you are so talented at writing! Just love your good ol memories! So sorry I missed you Sunday at Jodie and Tims picnic! we came later on after spending time at the lake with my family. Keep up the great postings, love to read them! God Bless, Lise’.

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  4. The baseball pickle does come to mind as both my sons have been caught in at least one during their baseball careers. Ha! But I love the crunch, appearance, smell, and sweet cinnamon hearts taste of the red pickle rings I make. Most people who have never seen them before think they are apple rings. They are surprised to find out they are actually cucumbers! Thanks for the article, Kathy!

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    • Ooo, Lori, I must try one of those! I LOVE apple rings, so I can imagine how wonderful those must be. If you have any currently, maybe you could bring a sample to church for me on Sunday! I’ll be there this Sunday, but not next (leaving for writers’ conference that Sunday). Just a thought … Thank you for sharing!

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