Christmas and Corn Weekend, those are our family’s set-in-stone holidays. Annual gatherings of the family allow each person to see folks even for just a few hours.
Corn Weekend might be a bit new, allow me to elaborate on this treasured holiday.
Every year, my family celebrates “Corn Weekend”, an annual gathering of the now-scattered nuclear family on the last weekend in July. We meet in my Iowa hometown, and spend Saturday morning shucking, blanching, and packing 144 ears of the best Iowa sweet corn you can buy.
This year, my Mom bestowed on me the blanching role. Every single kernel of corn my family enjoys this year will have been cooked in pots under my watch. I was most honored to time each cob coming through the boiling water pots, ice water bath, and regular water bath. Never mind my brain that struggles with minute details maybe fudged a little on some of the timings. I do believe we packed many a freezer full of Iowa’s finest this weekend.
I love the time to see my siblings, parents, and nieces. My fear is being the ‘unknown aunt’ who lives out on the coast working for some giant company, far removed from the goings-on with folks closer to home. I try to pick up and hold my nieces whenever I can. Perhaps gifts to come from the travels that approach on the horizon.
Mom always hosts games for everyone attending, with magnificent participation prizes. Think watermelon seed spitting contest and many more wiles. I won me a Mickey Mouse toaster, which I use daily for our breakfast of avocado toast, egg white caprese frittata, and blueberries. Yes, yes, call me a Millennial; I embrace your generational boxing. I’d also say that breakfast is macro-optimized to fat, protein, and carb ratios consistent with my running regime and research to promote brain flexibility. Take that, my 30s.
We spent a magnificent three weeks in Iowa – my parents’ cabin, sloshing shoes every morning from the dew, and doggos running around the pond with precisely zero cares in the world. If only to be a pupperoni.
Locals gave me the side-eye when I wandered into the local grocery store, masked up with my Frozen 2 covering, filled with HEPA-filters cut from HVAC-intended filters. We don’t take no chances, for ourselves or others.
Three weeks through, and my parents stopped by every Wednesday to mow the property and share a meal. Glimpses of a familiar cadence emerged.
The travel bug itched as the weeks continued. Of course, our plan was always to continue West, and now was the time. The restlessness of the known remains one of my most excruciating tensions. Yet, the sirens’ call of comfort found in the familiar proves a never-ending attraction. A whisper of discontent exists always.
Neon Green Hat 