We Drove A Thousand Miles to the Seed Show

We Drove A Thousand Miles to the Seed Show

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My friends, David and Vidya from Port Townsend, Washington drove to Harlem to stay the week with me and attend the Seed Show. We covered every event. Every breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“Sondra told us so much about the Seed Show. We just had to come see it.”

Our first event Thursday was the wool judging. Vidya knits, so she was particularly interested. “I was surprised to see so many varieties of wool on display, to get to talk to the judge about the wool. I was amazed at the different breeds of sheep. The judge was so knowledgeable, so thorough and conscientious as she handled the fleeces. And it was a special treat to see the young girl who won the Youth Division. She was so delighted with her ribbon.”

Thursday evening we sampled Death by Chocolate. David said, “That event was well named. It was very hard to place my vote. I had to sample some a second or third time to make sure I had made the right choice.”

After fasting the requisite twelve hours, we returned to the High School to have our blood drawn at the Health Fair, an annual event arranged by Fran Hodgson, Blaine County Health Nurse in conjunction with Western Health Screening of Billings. Vidya said, “I’ve never been any place where the health department makes something like this available. Look how it draws the people. The Seed Show is the perfect place to do it. We are happy to be able to take advantage. I’ve put it off, having my blood tested, for years because it is so expensive.”

After having our blood” vampired” out into tubes, we devoured a delicious breakfast served by the Harlem Civic Association. Then my friends and I helped Kris Shaw hang her own art along with a display for Art Duff, an artist from Chinook who died in November and for whom this year’s Show was dedicated. There is nothing like volunteering to make a stranger feel like “part of”. By the time we’d finished, my Washington friends knew Kris, her husband David and many of the “neighbor” artists.

David commented, “I couldn’t believe how many artists were here given how lightly the area is populated. Art seems to be an important part of the Show, on equal standing with other endeavors. The gallery was always packed. The number of people who attended and bid at the Friday night auction is further evidence of the importance of art in this area.”

Vidya added, “I loved the quality of the children’s art—that had to be due to the encouragement of their teachers. What a gift that the kids can display their work where the whole community gets to see it.”

“One thing that disappointed us, we expected to see more ag exhibits, more agricultural influence,” said David.

“We wish we could have seen all the exhibits judged like we saw the wool judged,” added Vidya. “We learned so much listening to the judge’s feedback. I wanted to see everything in depth, to hear all the details. We are impressed by the number of loaves of bread, the pies, cupcakes. We would have liked to hear all the judges’ comments.”

“Pie should be the state food of Montana,” added David. “A real staple of the diet, based on what we see wherever we go, like at What the Hay and the Seed Show. The money the pies brought at auction! That really demonstrates support. People come prepared to buy. They know they will spend a hundred dollars—some high price—for a pie. They are donating for their community. Amazing.”

After the pancake supper Friday night, served by the FFA, my friends told me, “We get a real sense of community here. Look at how hard everyone works to make the Seed Show happen. Everyone, the kids and the adults, together. The pancake supper is great, the whole community, all ages, all the diversity, whole families gathered. Every time we come to Harlem some community thing is going on and we get to go. Like the benefits for the Volunteer Firemen or the Ambulance Crew. There is always something going on that says ‘community’.”

After the banquet Saturday night, weary and sated as we were, I asked “So, is there anything you’d like to add, final impressions?”

“It’s kind of what we expected. Kind of not what we expected. All the stuff that goes on in this area, this empty land, here in Harlem, the county, the region. Basically it’s all home grown. The car show in Turner. The Blaine County Fair in Chinook. The Fall Festival in Havre. Everybody participates, whole families. Where we live, there are cities nearby. So kids, and adults too, go to the city to do city things. Here it’s a long way to the city. It’s all home grown.”

“Yet the pace is leisurely. It’s relaxed but things get done. I know there is stress. Of course, you have stress. But it’s not the same kind of stress. People don’t rush. People take time out to talk to you. They don’t act impatient, brush you off. People like to talk. It’s not such a stratified society like most places. There are so few people, everybody’s job is important to everybody else. Everybody counts. It’s good.”

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking out my back door

March 14, 2013

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Pye, Pye, Miss American Pye

Pye, Pye, Miss American Pye

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“Our church has lost so many of our bakers this year that we may have to forgo serving pies at the Seed Show luncheon,” Bev told me recently. “We might have to substitute cheesecake or something.”

“No! No! You can’t give up pies.” I lined up my arguments. “It wouldn’t be the same. Pie at the Montana Seed Show is a tradition. Pie is expected. Pie is an institution. Besides, what about Arnold? He hangs out at the Seed Show just for pie. That’s what I’ve heard. Sometimes he has six pieces a day. That’s what I’ve heard.” I went into a state of minor panic. I really didn’t care about Arnold. I cared about me!

The Lutheran Ladies have served homemade pie at the Seed Show forever. Whatever else they serve is incidental; people show up for the pie. Why else would hundreds of people stand in a line which winds twice around the hall and through the cafeteria, if not for homemade pie. Once the Civic Association finishes serving breakfast, the Lutheran Ladies set out mid-morning pie and coffee. And they serve mid-afternoon pie and coffee until the pie is gone.

As you stand in the lunch line, listen to the conversations around you. The merits of pies are debated, discussed, decided, studied and re-decided. “I want blackberry this time.” “Not me. My favorite is chocolate meringue. I hope they’re not out.” “Mmmm. I like apple.” Finally the line moves forward into the serving area and there you are, standing in front of at least fifty delectable slices of pie. The choice is overwhelming. Just as you decide on peach, the man in front of you snatches up the last slice of peach pie. “Dang napple-snapples.” Now what. Oooh, the coconut cream looks rich and, well, creamy. You point, “That one.”

I can’t imagine being at the Seed Show without a slice of pie. In my consideration, cheesecake is not a viable alternative. Now I make a mean homemade cheesecake, fresh and high and light and rich. It is expensive to make, takes forever and dirties every dish in the cupboard. And I’ve had cheesecake at a few doings, fundraisers for one event and another. What Bev was talking about as an alternative to homemade pie was the insipid cheesecake made from the easy-squeezy store-bought mix. I won’t say they are inedible but they don’t make me want to go back for more, especially when they are topped with plops of glommy pie filling straight from the can.

Pie is considered as American as the Fourth of July. But, actually pie is universal. Historical evidence points to numerous versions of “pye”, mostly filled with meat, as in four and twenty blackbirds. But during the early lean and hungry years in the colonies our pioneer mothers turned to baking pyes with the simple foods at hand. They lopped the tops off pumpkins, scooped out the seeds and stringy stuff, filled the pumpkin bowls with milk and set them on the open hearth to bake. In later years they added spices and put them in a grain-based “coffin”. The first pye pans these pioneer women devised were round “to cut corners”. Flour was expensive and less flour was needed to make a round crust. These pans were flat and shallow so the “pyes would go a long way”.

“There’s got to be a solution,” I told Bev. “I’ll become a volunteer Lutheran for a day and help bake pies. I bet you can find several others in the community willing to pitch in and help you through this desperate situation. How many pies do you want me to make, two or twenty?”

Yesterday I donned my Lutheran apron, the one I wear when I roll out lefse, and made two apple pies. I like a fat, fruity pie with a thin flaky crust, even though they always bubble over in the oven. After I baked the pies and let them cool, I wrapped them tightly so they wouldn’t lose moisture and popped them into the freezer where they will be safe until the Seed Show. Then I had to clean the oven.

Later this week I’ll bake a couple rhubarb pies and next week I’ll make Juneberry. As a lapsed Catholic helping out the Lutherans, does this doubly fulfill my obligation for Lent? After all, I’m baking them, not eating them. At least, I’ll abstain from pie until the Seed Show when I plan to stand in the slow-moving line along with everyone else, thinking about which pie most makes my mouth water. I sure hope somebody bakes peach.

Easy as pie. Crisis averted. Well, yes, but I will have to clean the oven again.

Sondra Ashton

HDN: Looking at my back door

February 21, 2013
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