Lunch at Aunt May's

Each summer our family would take a trip to Orofino, Idaho to visit my grandmother. Her sister Aunt May lived in Moscow, Idaho so it was a natural "pit stop" along the way ( a favorite phrase my father used). As we grow older our tastes change. I am convinced I would love lunch at Aunt May's today.

Lunch at Aunt May’s
Hot and hungry from the three hour drive
my brother and I crawl out of the car.
Shielding our eyes against the sun,
we steadied ourselves as we stepped out
to the familiar white house on Maybelle Avenue .

“Just in time for lunch”, her voice invites.
We brace ourselves for the smells of food.
Unrecognizable to the nose,
steam rose menacingly from the stove.

With a dismal sigh we sit down to our spread:
boiled kohlrabi, pickled crab apples, and brown bread.
We think it’s milk in the glass to the right.
Stewed tomatoes and fried summer squash
round out the noontime fare.

The jello looked promising as it shook in bright red hue.
“Raspberry ?” I asked.
“No........ colored with beets!” she replied.

Back in the car we pleaded for pixie stix,
A hot dog, a Sugar Daddy, some greasy fries,
Our stomachs were unsatisfied from Aunt May’s lunch,
Our eyes caught the basket....leftovers to go.