What is appropriation, banana bread mistake, baby lettuce

Cultural appropriation refers to the use of objects or elements of a non-dominant culture in a way that doesn't respect their original meaning, give credit to their source, or reinforces stereotypes or contributes to oppression.

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Shortly after my birth, my Mom bought this from the Navaho Nation , my birth stone being turquoise. As if she  needed a reminder of my birth...this is huge ,solid and weighty, the weight of raising a girl child in the fifties. Anyway, My Mom appreciated Native culture with a sort of reverence ,rare during those years in rootin' tootin' Wyoming. She appreciated Sheep wagons and sheep herders, also with reverence and admiration. The poor native men defeated by the bottle , horizontal on front street , did bring a "tsk-tsk" but there was compassion and sorrow in that  idiom of seeming  judgement.  Anyway... Mom bought this in celebration of a daughter born in a turquoise stone month. 

One day Mom drove up to the Shoshone Nation, 125 miles, two hour drive each way, to see her friend. Driving 125 miles is nothing in Wyoming, so vast and open, every town is at least that far from one another. Mom's friend called to tell her that she had beaded a shield for her. Mom's name was Juanita, pronounced Wah, NEE , taw by her friend.

It is still as pristine as the day it was made, Mom never wore it thinking it was  too sacred.

Before i had ever heard of  "appropriation" , I wore the turquoise piece to a school meeting. The head teacher scolded me for wearing it. "It's my Mom's" I tell her- "That does not belong on a white woman and you wearing it makes me sick!" That was confusing for me at the time, but I sort of understand. My brother did send me an Apache medicine man rattle made of horse hair, bone and Elk scrotum. I sent it back to him, THAT was not a white person's medicine. See the difference?

When i was going to school in Powell Wyoming, I had a friend from the Shoshone nation, Beverly. Beverly would sit on the stairs leading to the basement of the dorm in the middle of the night and chant/sing softly. I joined her one night out of curiosity, sat beside her, She had seen her grandfather on the stairs  a few nights ago and wanted to see him again...he  had been dead for four or five years.  He did not show up that night but that is because I was there. I checked with Beverly every morning to see if she had seen her grandfather- sometimes yes and sometimes no.

I had to hurry to get the overly ripened bananas into something edible, Two of the loaves are ok, the third is sort of a happy mistake. In the bottom of the mixing bowl the butter and brown sugar had not mixed  with the batter.  I just scooped it out , put it on top of the batter in the third pan. It  sort of sunk and melded during the baking leaving pockets of gooey buttery caramel.  Yes, yum-happy mistake!

Dennis's little urban garden is growing well, about eight inches tall this morning. HOWEVER.

He has been eating the tender lettuce leaves when they are first born so the lettuce is three inches tall and sparse. It's his lettuce, he can do what he wants, but....really? Dude, patience is a virtue!

And here is a photo of the raccoon babies returning to their forest home, but you can not see them because they scooted too quickly for my reflexes.  

 

AND AGAIN, this is the morning sun. Another day of grey blue wind and heavy skies.