Excerpt from Minna Pegeen Chapter Three

Excerpt from

Minna Pegeen

© Evelyn Rainey

Comfort Publishing

ISBN 9781935361381

SLIVERED ALMOND ONIONS

(This sounds good, but I would prepare it with leeks rather than onions. Just a thought.)

16 to 20 small onions

½ cup butter/margarine

1 cup slivered almonds

Parboil onions to loosen outer skin; remove outer skin, stem and root end. (I would have just cut and removed them while they were raw). Arrange onions in shallow casserole in a single layer. Dot top of each onion with butter; sprinkle almonds over top. Cover and bak e at 350 degrees for 45 minutes or until tender. Yield: 8 servings.

(Mrs. Richard W. Hurd, Montgomery AL © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.

Excerpt from Troughton Company Chapter Three

            “I don’t understand why the women-folk don’t want Belly and the rest of us to know.” Jerry stretched out in his tent, speaking to his wife. She was seated on the ground beside him.

            “What is this women-folk crap? Ever since WWII, we have been people first, equals! Now suddenly, once we have come back to building fires and sleeping under the stars – living off the land – we’re women-folk. Like we’re separate species.”

            “What you just told me is exactly why we men are going to treat you women differently than just one of the guys. You are vulnerable in a way men will never be.”

            Chrissy tried to respond with a logical argument.  Jerry let her think her way to a calmer plateau.

            “Is anyone else pregnant?”

            “There are only the three of us that are actively sexual – that I know of. It’s not like we babysit the bachelorettes. Peggy, Jeanie and I are married. Peggy’s got a stash of condemns, though.”

            “Yeah, I’m amazed that’s lasted that long.” Jerry mused. “Preacher mentioned he and Smartboard are considering going bear-hunting.”

            “And then there’s Angel and Jailbird.”

            “He’s a man of honor; they’re still celibate.”

            “She’s got to be at least seventeen and this winter’s going to be a cold one.”

            Jerry grimaced. “Well, that was less than romantic.”

            “There’s nothing romantic about bear-hunting in the piney woods, love.” She smirked and then lay down beside him. “But those wild roses you picked for me last time were very sweet.”

            “Are you ever sorry that I can’t get you pregnant?”

            She nuzzled against him. “Right now, I’m grateful that we can’t get pregnant. I can’t imagine going through a pregnancy out here. The closest thing to an OB-GYN is Peggy who took an on line midwifery course.”

            “Do you suppose the 74^th has doctors?”

            “That’s not enough of a reason to join them.”

            “Hum,” he slipped his hand under her shirt.  “If we’re real quiet, do you suppose we could go bear-hunting right now?”

            She grinned and kissed him.

            “Jerry!” Preacher yelled from outside of the tent. “We found a bee hive. Pizzaboy thinks he‘s got an idea. Come on!”

 

 

            “We’ll start you with the jeans. That’s why we announced at breakfast today’s jeans day. Anyone with dirty jeans will start piling them there.”

            “Beside the pile of white or whitish clothes?” Mickey asked Sally.

            “Yeah, well, we’re a little behind in the laundry. I’ll take care of the whites, you do the jeans.”

            “So, announce the flavor of the day, wait for the clothes to pile up. I think I’m getting a hang of this living off the land mojo.”

            “Put twelve jeans at a time in that tub there. Shake them first, to make sure there’s no bugs. Check the pockets – carefully.”

            “Bugs?”

            “Or worse. Especially Timmy Hicks. Smallest jeans. That child finds every squishy critter interesting and collects them – in his pockets.”

            Mickey made a face but assured her (and himself), “I can do this.”

            “Use one cup of laundry detergent and fill the tub with water from the stream.”

            “Don’t I have to boil it or something?”

            “Not yet.”

            “Oh, two words that offer such promise.”

            Sally pointed.

            “What?”

            “Get the stick.”

            He did so, and held it vertically between them.

            She placed her hand caressingly at the top of the stick, placed her other hand on the shaft and then used it to demonstrate her words. “You know how, in an engine, when the pistons go up and down, up and down, and up and down, faster and faster until the engine just screams with heat?”

            “Yeah? Oh yeah. Up and down.”

            “Once the tub is full, you and the stick – to the clothes in the tub. Like a hot engine.”

            “Screaming hot.”

            “Can you guess what happens next?”

            He leaned in toward her, “Not yet.”

            “You let them soak while you fill that second tub with boiling water.”

            “Steaming. Hot. In a tub.”

            “Use a cup of laundry soap.”

            “I like bubbles.”

            “Take the clothes out of the first tub and put them in the shopping cart to drain. Then dump the tub that way.”

            “Toward the little ditch in the dirt?”

            “It leads away from the river towards the latrines.”

            “So you don’t foul the river.”

            “We have a chance at a new start here. Jerry says we need to treat the earth like grown-ups, not like the generations before us.”

            “The president has an environmental policy.”

            “Yes, Sergeant Mickelson, he does.” She crossed her arms.

            He licked his lips, recognizing how much ground he’d just lost. “So I dump the dirty water while the first load drains. Then put them in the hot water bucket, piston them for a while and what?”

            “Fill up the first tub again for the next load. While it’s soaking, use the shopping cart to drain the hot load. Dump that tub. Put the water on to boil again and while you’re filling the second tub, dump three buckets of cold water over the load in the shopping cart, let them drip a bit and then hang them on the line. Use the cart to drain the cold tub, put them in the hot tub. Dump, fill, repeat.”

            “The line’s going to get full, looking at that load of jeans.”

            “Jeans take two days to dry in this humidity. When the clothes are dry, fold them on that table. We each mark our clothes, so everyone will come and get them before dinner tomorrow.”

            “What you need is two shopping carts.”

            “What we need is new underwear.”

            “Oh, baby, I love the thought of you in a new, fresh out of the lingerie store, thong.”

            “Oh, now that was just a cheesy line.”

            “Hey, cut me some slack here, I’ve been out of practice this past year.”

            She handed him a bucket and took one herself. “So, how many wives and girlfriends did you leave behind?”

            “None that belonged to me.”

Excerpt from

Troughton Company

© Evelyn Rainey

Available for publication.

Excerpt from Perky's Chapter Three

April 9 Through the End of the Month

 

Jack returned later that afternoon.

“I’m sorry, but this is the busiest time of the day, and I’ve got to re-supply the café with three day’s worth of shipment.” I pushed the cart into the café.

“That’s alright, Ms. Madison. I’ve finished my interrogations,” he stopped. “I’ve finished my interviews. I thought I’d just sit here and observe for a while.”

I shook his hand and began unloading the cart.

“That’ll be nineteen dollars and sixty-nine cents.” Henry, manning the café in Mrs. Abercrombie’s place, smiled at the middle-aged man who had just purchased an inspirational book from the Christian Living section and a mug of coffee. Henry’s face was devoid of make-up. Her chestnut hair was straight and held behind her in a ponytail. She wore no jewelry and the only adornment on her apron was the nametag identifying her as “Henry, Paperback Specialist.” Despite her outward plainness, Henry had a haunting beauty that caused women to look twice at her in admiration and men to look twice at her in longing.

“I hope you don’t mind breaking this bill.” The man smiled apologetically at Henry and handed her a one-hundred-dollar bill.

She sighed, took the bill, and began gathering change.

“I tell you what, I hate to take all of your change.” He pulled a wad of ones out of his wallet. “Why don’t I pay for my purchase with these twenty ones?”

He spread out the twenty ones on the counter and pulled the hundred dollar bill back from Henry’s hand.

“Oh, I forgot! I’ll need a five dollar bill. I always put a five dollar bill in the offering at Sunday School.” He pulled a five dollar bill from the change in Henry’s hand and pushed five ones from the pile of twenty ones on the counter toward her.

She cocked her head, a slight smile on her face.

Jack White was sitting at the café. He bit the inside of his bottom lip and watched the hustle.

“Well, if you need fives, why don’t I give you change for that twenty I saw in your wallet.” Henry smiled sweetly.

The man hesitated.

“That would be a month of Sundays for you!”

“Well, OK.”

The man pulled the twenty out and handed it to her. Henry pointed at the five in his hand. “Five.” She pulled a five out of her hand and waved it, “Ten.” She slapped it on the counter, “Fifteen.” She pulled another five from her hand but hesitated, “Twenty.” She waved the five between them. “But if I give you these four fives, I won’t have enough for closing. If you give me that five back, I’ll give you ones for it.”

The man blinked helplessly. Henry took the single five out of his hand and scooped up the remaining fives and ones on the counter. “Oh no! I can’t open the cash drawer unless you buy something. How about a pack of mints?”

“Uh, I just have a hundred dollar bill left.”

“That’ll work. I’ll give you change.”

He handed her the bill with a puzzled look on his face. She began counting his change into his hand. “Three ninety-nine and a penny makes four, five, and five is ten. And ten more.”

“Uh, and if I could get change for this ten?” The man floundered.

“Why certainly.” She took back the ten and spread the rest of his change on the counter. “Five and five more is ten.” She pressed the two bills into his hand and pocketed the rest. “Sugar and milk are on that table over there.” Henry pointed across the café.

As he walked past, Jack winked at him. “A word to the wise, Mister.”

“What is it?” The man stared helplessly into his empty wallet.

“Don’t teach your grandmother to suck eggs.”

The man looked shocked and then embarrassed. He set his coffee on the table and left Perky’s Books & Gifts.

White peered at Henry over the top of his notebook. Henry came around the counter and stood in front of White’s table.

“Are you still running that youth center, Jack?” Henry glared at him. He nodded. She plopped the one-hundred-fifty dollars she’d scammed from the would-be conman on the table in front of Jack and turned away.

“Elizabeth.”

“What?” She turned to face him, fists on hips, ready for a fight.

“I’m glad you’re out.”

“I’ve been out almost a year now.”

“I know. Mom told me.”

“She wrote to me every week.”

“I know.” Jack patted the bills on the table top. “She read me your letters, too.”

Henry drew a breath and looked away from him. “You never wrote.”

“Didn’t think you’d appreciate it. I’m the reason you went to jail.”

“No you’re not, Jack. I’m the reason I went to jail. I was guilty. You had to do your job.”

“So, you forgive me?”

Henry scoffed and turned away.

“Bethy,” Jack picked up the wad of bills.

She glanced over her shoulder at him.

“Thanks.”

Henry nodded and went back behind the counter.

 

 

April 20

 

I put on my apron and walked with a till to the front counter. I could feel—more than hear—a disgruntlement among our morning patrons. No one was ready to buy a book, so I closed the cash drawer and walked toward the café.

“I just think it’s in poor taste,” a woman in an embroidered denim jumper and tennis shoes shook her head. “It’s only been two weeks.”

Henry patted her arm. “I know, Ruth. I’m sure Jack hasn’t given up. Maybe this is just a police tactic. Jack will solve this. He doesn’t give up on anything.”

“Or anyone,” Ruth squeezed Henry’s hand and walked away, revealing an eleven by fourteen inch poster glued to the counter. I could read the title: Cold Case, and saw a picture of Mrs. Abercrombie with a few details about her life and unsolved (or as Henry’s faith in Jack White’s detective skills asserted—yet-to-be solved) murder.

Excerpt from

Perky’s Books and Gifts

© Evelyn Rainey 2013

Bedlam Press

ISBN 9781939065377

APPLE-ONION CASSEROLE

3 to 6 large apples, peeled and sliced

2 Tbsp sugar

2 or 3 large onions, peeled and sliced

½ tsp salt

¼ tsp white pepper

2 Tbap butter/margarine

1 to 2 Tbsp water

Place layer of apples in casserole; sprinkle with part of sugar. Top with layer of onions; sprinkle with salt and pepper. Repeat layers until all is used, ending with apples. Dot with butter, add water. Bake at 325 for 1 hour. Yield: 4 – 12 servings.

(Dorothy Peter   Petersen, Lynchburg, VA © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.

Excerpt from The Island Remains Chapter Two

March 1944

 

            Stabsrichter Luther Sizemore kept an eye on the dining hall door.  When the new commandant entered, Luther stood to attention and made note of his staff who were slow to do so.  He had read Von Kruppstieg’s dossier.  He was old school, trained and molded between the wars.

            “At ease,” the Oberst allowed.

Luther was at his side immediately; deferential without being subservient.  Karl had met with him earlier and liked the young man.  Karl wasn’t in the habit of liking men under his command.

            Together, they walked toward the group of civilians.

            “Herr Oberst, this is Headmaster Thomas Appleton.”

            Of the four men in front of him, Karl was surprised to discover this man of at least sixty years was married to Brucke’s much younger friend. He was twice her age.  He bore intelligent features, bushy eyebrows, an aquiline nose, and fleshy lips – not unkind, but somehow unwholesome.  Appleton was tall and broad shouldered, but soft in an academic’s fashion.  The sweater vest over his shirt was frayed at the buttons, but the professorial cloak was shiny clean.

            The headmaster did not offer his hand, nor did the oberst.  Karl felt an immediate dislike for Thomas, much the same way two dogs in a dockyard raise their hackles on sight.

            Thomas introduced him to the three other islanders in quick and efficient, if bloodless, fashion.  “Beckert – professor of Math and Science.  Stuart – history and geography. Lanz – languages.”

            Rather than allow Thomas his coup, Karl smiled charmingly at Lanz, “Which ones?”

The young man paled, looked desperately at Appleton for guidance, and then answered, “German, English, French, Latin.  The students speak the various Norman dialects, so I have learned those as well – Auregniais, Dgernesiais, Jerriais, and Sercquiais.  And of course, the children from Heleirhou speak Heliersiais. It depends on which island the students were born, don’t you see.  Auregniais is almost – well – it is almost lost.  They have all abandoned that island since this occupation – only six people are left on Auberney. Six islanders, that is.  There’s no one to speak it.”  His voice fell to a whisper, “Don’t you see.”

Lanz was younger than the other professors, about the same age as Luther.  But where Luther was tall and handsome with an easy smile and healthy teeth, Lanz was stoop-shouldered on his left side and had the clammy grey skin of an addict.  It was easy to understand why he was left behind when his peers went off to war.

            “You have no female professors?”

            The math professor scoffed.  “They eat in the kitchen.  Well, the servants’ hall.  Same thing.”

The history professor peered out of thick glasses, “Better for the men, so they may relax without the attention to decorum required when there are ladies present.”

Appleton smirked, “Better for your officers.”

            Karl stared without comment at the patch of oily skin between Appleton’s eyebrows, ignoring the implied insult.

            “Here is Reverend Somersby,” Appleton sounded relieved as a man in black trousers, white shirt and cleric’s collar strode directly to Karl and stuck out a hand.  “Colonel, welcome to Helierhou.”

“It’s,” Lanz interrupted nervously.  “It’s Oberst.  Not Colonel.”

            “Yes, thank you, Geoffrey.”  Without taking a breath, Somersby continued.  “Sorry I’m late. Young Pettigrew needed a thrashing – insolent pup.  Well, shall we pray?”

The officers and academics bowed their heads as the Reverend’s voice boomed, “Grant us Thy bounty.  Forgive us our sins.  Create in us clean hearts and strong hands.  Let us never forget thy loving kindness and mercy in the face of eternal damnation.  Amen.”

Soldiers from the culinary corps served a buffet line loaded with fish, potatoes, green vegetables and Kaiser rolls.  The men waited.  Karl walked to the buffet and found Appleton at his side.  The Reverend was next, followed by Luther.  The remaining faculty and staff officers fell in line according to rank.

Appleton and his faculty sat at the far end of the table in an isolated clump.  Luther waited for Karl and then sat beside him. 

“I would like to tour the island tomorrow, but I have discovered my chauffer has only just arrived himself.”

            Luther offered, “Mrs. Appleton knows the island better than anyone born here.  After dinner, we can stop by the kitchens and ask her.”

            “Who else has to eat in the kitchen?”

            “Most of the students go home at the end of classes, but nine children live here – some are orphans, others are boarded here and didn’t get sent off the island to England before we arrived.  The headmaster’s maiden sister teaches the younger children basic reading and writing.  Matron Wellington – she’s the nurse – teaches recreation and health.  There are two cooks, Mr. and Mrs. Leloir.  She’s a good cook unless she’s angry.  He doesn’t say much, but he takes good care of the children.  The four of them sleep in two suites next to the children’s dorm.  Mr. Leloir’s brother was the gardener, but he died at Michaelmas.”

“You’re Catholic?”

“Not practicing.  I’m German.  It takes all my faith to remain so.”

            Karl played with his food but eventually surrendered his knife and fork.

            “Are you well?”

Karl grimaced and looked away.  “A long journey.  A slight headache.”  He sipped from his water goblet.  “And the rest of the villagers and farmers – how do they fare after almost four years under our wings?”

            “Better than the other islands.  Much better.  The Old Man billeted soldiers – three to a farm – and they work the land and keep the livestock. Other soldiers go out in fishing boats, so we are good with fish and vegetables with an occasional pig or sheep.”

            “The Old Man?” he put a slightly cold twinge to the words as a warning.
            “Generlmajor Brucke.  No offense, sir.”

            Karl nodded.  “He sounds like a wise squire.”

            “Eventually,” Luther sounded hesitant.

            Karl waited, expecting an explanation.

            “It took some convincing, but Mrs. Appleton finally got the Old – Herr Generalmajor to see the benefit in keeping soldiers busy and the island well-kept and productive.”

“The headmaster’s wife?”

Excerpt from

The Island Remains

© Evelyn Rainey

Whiskey Creek Publishing

ISBN tba June 2014

GYPSY CAVIAR

2 Tbsp olive oil

1 medium onion, diced

1 medium green pepper, diced

1 large carrot, pared and coarsely grated

1 unpeeled eggplant, but into 1 inch cubes

½ tsp oregano

½ tsp sweet basil

1 clove garlic, crushed

1 9-ounce can tomato sauce

Salt & pepper to taste

Heat olive oil in large skillet; add onion. Sauté until wilted and golden. Add green pepper, carrot and eggplant; cover and continue cooking over low heat, stirring occasionally for 20 minutes or until eggplant is cooked thoroughly. Add oregano, basil, garlic, tomato sauce, salt and pepper. Cook uncovered, until thick. Serve hot or cold as a spread with crackers. Store in refrigerator.

(H. Boyer, Dublin, Miss. © Southern Living 1968)

Gluten-free and Vegetarian/Vegan Recipes

To meet my needs of being “gluten-free”, there are no ingredients that have wheat in them. Since one out of one-hundred people now have problems with the way the United States processes their foods, there are plenty of brands which are marked GF Gluten-free. However, read all the way around the label and determine if there might be traces of wheat or if the product was processed in a plant or on machinery that also handles wheat. (These statements are usually NOT found near the list of ingredients.) If this is the case and you are gluten-sensitive or have a wheat-toxicity, don’t use it!

I also deleted recipes which called for hidden gluten – like shrimp, frozen mangoes and parsnips.

Vegetarian foods allow the use of milk, honey, eggs, and other non-kill animal products; vegans do not. I have endeavored to post only recipes with vegan-appropriate ingredients. If I really liked something, though, that was vegetarian rather than vegan, I will note it.

Whenever possible, use non-GMO products (non-genetically modified).  If you think gmo’s are ok for you, you haven’t read any science fiction books, let alone Charles Darwin.

These recipes are not an attempt to substitute wheat or animal ingredients with something else. These recipes are “naturally” or originally gluten-free and vegetarian/vegan.