No, not Mayday, the distress signal. I’m talking about the first day of May. Does anyone remember the May Basket tradition? When I was a kid, I remember making a decorative little paper cone on May Day, filling it with flowers I had picked, then hanging it on the doorknob of an elderly neighbor’s door, ringing the doorbell, and scampering away.
My first grade teacher, Mrs. Martinez, who must have begun teaching in the 1940s, led the class in making the baskets at school, and my mom helped me with the flower and neighbor selection part. I haven’t thought about May Day for years, and I’m not planning to rekindle a bygone tradition, but it did make me think about what we hold on to and what we let go.
Ben asked for Mexican food this week, maybe thinking of the impending Cinco de Mayo. Ben had ground beef tacos with taco seasoning in mind, but in a surprising plot twist, I talked him into an upgrade! We went for steak on the grill, cut up and put into homemade tortillas with avocado slices, pepper jack cheese, salsa and onions.
Homemade tortillas are a well-worn tradition in our house, and Ben knows the drill. He knows all the ingredients and the equipment needed. I know that when he is cutting in the shortening, he will comment that Crisco looks like ice cream, and maybe he should try some. I will quash his request. It’s all part of cooking by heart.
Ben even knows which cloth we nestle the tortillas in when they are fresh off the griddle. The Bluebird Flour sack that I saved from my days on the Hopi reservation is faded, worn, and has been washed a million times, but contains memories I have no intention of discarding.
Looking for something to do on this fine May Day weekend? Ben and friends are performing in Finding Nemo Jr. at the Community Theater League. We’d love to see you there!