Mayhap you, too, wish to reinvigorate certain words of your acquaintance?

4 thoughts on “Mayhap you, too, wish to reinvigorate certain words of your acquaintance?”

  1. you know what i think of when i see a hubbard squash? nay, you do not, not yet having been told, but mayhap you would like to hear. i think of a little white tent set up in a front yard in nelson, wisconsin, a little river town we were passing through on a deliciously golden october day, a day that tasted like an autumn apple through and through. across from the tent, where they were selling a bounteous autumn harvest, were parked motorcycles (taking a break from one of the last meanderings of the year) and people perched on benches outside the nelson dairy enjoying homemade ice cream in the sunshine.

    inside the tent were several hubbard sqaushes of intimidating size that looked nothing if not prehistoric. when i inquired as to how a person would attempt to split and cook such a thing, the advice included ideas such as a sledgehammer and a long fall onto concrete. my love and i discussed it momentarily and decided that, at least at that moment, we did not wish to cook anything that first had to be conquered by our own hands.

    because we chose not to take one home, hubbard does not call up violent attempts to smash an unwilling squash, but rather standing in a small town sun bath on our way home from an interesting romantic weekend, marveling over the bizarre and lovely fruits of this world, both human and otherwise.


  2. My father was a Somerset man, at heart at least, and he really did used to say ‘lief’ for rather! ‘I’d as leif have that apple juice as a glas of wine’ he sometimes said. And my mum would reply ‘yes you would, it’s cheaper.’


  3. Lucy, I hereby vow to restore “lief” to common parlance, at least in my own small circle. What a wonderful word. Mayhap I’ll start calling my mother “Mum” too – so much better than Mom.

    Oreo, that comment right there is a tiny perfect essay. Want to know how my mum deals with Hubbard squashes? She stands on the cement porch, holds it over her head, and then lets it drop. No joke. I do believe she derives a perverse pleasure from this vegetable violence.


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