How to Make Redbud Jelly

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https://onlineconferenceformusictherapy.com/2025/02/22/g2wop7c7g8 Redbud blooming season has almost passed in Oklahoma, but the opportunity to make delicate, floral jelly happens every year.

source These easy step by step instructions, plus a few common questions and answers should help guide you through the process easily.  Once you’re finished, stand back and admire your stock of unique gifts for friends, or delicious wares for your pantry.  Happy canning!

go here Redbud blooms in jar

source url RECIPE – REDBUD JELLY

go 3 cups of redbuds
Approx. 2 cups boiling water
2-3 Tablespoons lemon juice
3 Tablespoons Sure-Jel powder
2 cups sugar; 1-2 tsp. butter

https://www.brigantesenglishwalks.com/ujyvljhe 1.  Gather 3 cups of fresh, new redbud blooms.  Be careful while gathering.  Honeybees like to visit the trees so you’ll have to share with them. Continue reading How to Make Redbud Jelly

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EPTOM: Owasso, OK (Email Mondays)

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source site We must have crossed into a funk zone.  That’s the only way I can explain our Owasso point on the map.

follow site Somewhere between our visit with the Roundtable Breakfast Club in Sperry and a middle class neighborhood in Owasso, Rachel and I must have entered an unmarked Oklahoma worm hole.  It certainly felt “alien.”  We literally knocked on ten doors with not one “yes” for our conversation.

Tramadol To Buy Uk Prior to turning south into this particular area with newer homes and nicely paved streets, we had just said to each other, “We really need to sit down with a few middle class folks.  Someone we find at home, not necessarily just outside hanging around wherever we happen to be.”

https://alldayelectrician.com/6crjfr0 As we agreed on this plan, I felt it was exactly the right thing to do. Go to a middle-class neighborhood in the middle of American.  After all, I’m a middle class individual and live in somewhat of a middle-class neighborhood.  My people, right?

https://dcinematools.com/rdei1x5qh6x “Piece of cake,” I said to myself as I walked up to the first door of ten.

https://paradiseperformingartscenter.com/x8i87fenx Ten. Continue reading EPTOM: Owasso, OK (Email Mondays)

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EPOTM: Lima, OK ~ (The Biggest Stone Up There)

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source url Derrick Jackson held a small pit bull puppy close to his chest as he pointed south, north, “over there,” “by the school,” and “down the road.”  As I listened to him patiently laying out the dividing lines between Lima and New Lima, the thought of him spending 15 years in a maximum security prison for second degree murder didn’t make sense. Continue reading EPOTM: Lima, OK ~ (The Biggest Stone Up There)

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EPOTM: Cashion, OK (He IS The Job)

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https://www.mreavoice.org/ghxjfpnjv The Cashion PD interior was screaming for an HGTV renovation.  Informational messages spewed over the radio system, violently punching an otherwise quiet rural setting.  And Joshua Farrety, Assistant Chief of Police, was preparing for our conversation by finding just the right angle on his chair: far enough back to provide relief from the bullet proof vest he sported, and forward enough to balance his frame.

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Order Tramadol Next Day Delivery Five minutes earlier, Farrety had been on the phone with his Chief who had encouraged him to speak with us.

see “She said the experience would do me good,” he retorted.

Can You Order Tramadol Online His put-off tone was counterbalanced with a subtle grin that gave away his enjoyment about the opportunity to represent the agency.  Assistant Chief Farrety was asked to speak on behalf of the department, and he wasn’t going to let them down.

https://geolatinas.org/sgywgzeeqp3 The City of Cashion was the fifth stop on a six-town, one-day run, so by late in the afternoon Rachel and I were more than a little jocular (read: adolescent).  Try as we may, however, Farrety stayed mostly on message.  Even when we chided him about his “lady friend” buying the groceries he remained fairly regulated.

https://paradiseperformingartscenter.com/dxwdc5f3o53 I’m not sure if speaking with a rural Oklahoma policeman was the impetus for “the adolescent” in us, but when I watched our video this past week, my respect for Farrety strengthened.  He was the job.

https://www.marineetstamp.com/bdig6q5r6 He was the job…whether it was to:

  • serve up their mission statement,
  • volunteer for the local fire department in any spare time he mustered,
  • or give it up to the reserve police officers across the state who enable towns like Cashion to stay covered when their budgets don’t meet the warm body demand it takes to keep their area safe.

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https://getdarker.com/editorial/articles/zr6mqxak4fe When I think about the shoestring budgetary funding of local fire and police operations, I’m at the same time impressed in how they made ends meet, and infuriated at the salary levels provided to those who risk their lives every day.

https://lpgventures.com/5jiijkcbkk I left our discussion that evening with a few thoughts running through my head.  In no particular order, they are:

  • I would imagine the Cashion PD doesn’t give a damn about their level of office decor;
  • If I was ever in trouble, I’d feel just fine knowing Farrety was involved in some kind of police action to keep me safe; and,
  • I’m incredibly sheltered in my job at the university.

https://www.elevators.com/r11g6qeaj1j Thanks, Farrety and company, for pulling over the man high on pot so he didn’t kill someone while driving. Thanks, specifically to Josh, for putting up with our interrogatory nature. And thanks, Chief Veronica Thomas, for letting him handle the discussion.

https://onlineconferenceformusictherapy.com/2025/02/22/9ymbh62 He was the job, and he did just fine.

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https://alldayelectrician.com/u1oew3qbk4 Video clips from our conversation with Josh below. For more on our project, visit the “About” page on this website. The video ending was extended without visuals to highlight our featured artist, Sherree Chamberlain’s song: San Fran, from her album New Skin.

Cashion, Oklahoma is a small town on the boarder of Kingfisher and Logan counties.

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EPTOM: Schoolton, OK (Letter to Robert)

Dear Robert,

When we parked in your driveway, the first thing I noticed was a medium-sized cluster of tomato plants growing under an eastern window.  The gardner in me instinctively checked out the ripeness of your harvest, and wondered what breed you were growing.

The second thing I noticed was a Duck Dynasty poster attached to the siding outside your home, as if you were making a statement to those who visited.  I never asked you about it, but after speaking with you for more than an hour, I’ll bet a story exists we just didn’t get around to discussing.

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The third thing I noticed wasn’t about the environment in which you lived; it was about you.  Your willingness to sit and talk with us for a while was gracious, and the patience you provided us as we set up our equipment, jerry-rigged with hair bands, cotton balls, and no tripod for Rachel’s large format camera, was humbling.

We were both embarrassed for having set out on a two-day journey with essential elements left behind in Oklahoma City. Your easy spirit buffered our anxiety; it was you who helped along our work, not us.

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From that point forward, I don’t recall sequential memories of our stop at your Schoolton home.  I remember pockets of information I’m now writing because our microphone wasn’t plugged in all the way.

Our time with you, and the fact that we don’t have audio documenting our conversation, is probably the deepest regret I have of our Every Point work to date.  So, I’m going to do my best to share with those who read these words, insights about who you are and why we appreciated our time with you so much:

Robert, I admire you deeply.  You raised your sister’s six children because she was in jail.  Then, you raised your daughter’s two children due to her cycle of jail and rehabilitation.  You take them on camping trips, manage a blow up swimming pool for them during the hot summer months, and have friends who will watch them for you during your trips to the doctor or other errands.

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You hold up your Creek Nation heritage with honor in so many ways.  From sharing their newspaper and Creek Language CD with us, to the stories you shared about your land, your home built by your people, and the funerals. You even attended an Indian school in far northeast Oklahoma.  

All the information you shared with me was new.  I didn’t know your tribe provided $250 for food when a member died.  I didn’t know that funeral times with families last for a few days, or that gifts like blankets are given to the family.  

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I didn’t know that you could have your own family cemetery on the land where you lived – and how beautiful, to walk out your front door each day, to be able to glance over at your wife’s and other family members’ headstones on your two-acre patch of earth.

Your perseverance in so many areas of your life struck me deeply.  In 1979 you were in a car accident that gave you a serious knee injury, and took you to the Muscogee hospital year after year.  Providence must have had His hand on you, because during your appointment when the doctor was to give you the news that you would be undergoing an amputation, your knee began to heal. 

Your humor was good medicine for Rachel and I.  Thank you for the story that she posted on our Instagram account about the local sheriff:

"Robert lives on res land in Schoolton and is Turtle clan of the Creek Nation. One of the few times he chuckled while he was speaking with us was when telling a story about how only Lighthorsemen can come on his land and he had a stand off with a local Sheriff who would park his car across the street and wanted to give him some random traffic ticket, and Robert would just sit on his porch and wave, knowing the sheriff 'couldn't do sh*%.' It was hilarious."

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I’m glad your friend Tiny is so close, and so honest, and so funny.  It was great seeing you two interact with each other.  I loved it when Tiny said, “Oh yeah, we talk all the time.  We just sit out here and solve everyone’s problem’s but our own…just like two heifers!”  It was fun to see you laugh at Tiny’s jokes. And, I love it that Tiny willingly watches your grandchildren if need be.

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https://www.mreavoice.org/wpqp2tp5 I really struggled when you answered  a question in a way I didn’t expect.  I asked what you had hope for, or had learned along the way….and you paused, thought for a moment, and then said, “I don’t know…I just feel…bored.”  

https://mocicc.org/agricultura/vovcy0ksxn I wondered if that was your way of telling me to you have lived your life raising the children of the women in your family, and that you’ve not ever really done something completely for you.  I don’t know what you meant by that, but I feel like I want to go back to your house and hear the rest of what you didn’t say.  And if you couldn’t come up with an answer, maybe your friend Tiny could tell us.

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Robert, I want to tell you that you might feel “bored” sometimes, but you are FAR from boring.  You have a cool braid, cool glasses, and a beautiful Water Bird tattoo on your arm. You take time for your grandchildren and I can tell you really care about them. You are great to sit and talk with on a Saturday morning, and share cool stories about the Creeks.

And, you put up with us.

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That’s it, Robert.  That’s all I can remember because I didn’t write too many notes that day.  I thought we had all our discussion on video when we headed down the road to our next stop.  But instead, we have you in our minds, and our hearts, and we hope you are doing well.

All my best,

Kelly

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