I took a walk with my sister and niece on Saturday. They were up visiting for a long weekend after spending Spring Break with my grandparents. I needed a few items from the grocery store, including a giant Hershey Bar, and there was a craft show at one of the churches.
“Is it walking distance?” asked my sister.
“The grocery store is, but I have no idea where the church is.” I replied.
I took out my phone and mapped it. It looked to be about 2 miles away. We decided that we would walk. It was a lovely March day. The sun was warm. The wind was chilly. I didn’t need a hat or gloves, although my sister scolded my niece for not wearing them. I felt a little awkward in the situation since the sidewalk is only wide enough to allow two people walk comfortably. My niece didn’t seem to care as she walked/danced along. I could hear her talking and asked what she was saying. Instead of singing, she was spelling words to herself. 
After successfully negotiating our way through the tiny downtown area, we crossed the street and started on the longest part of our walk. After a year of living in this village, I still don’t know where everything is. I might need to spend more time walking around.
As we walked, we talked about nothing in particular and everything in general. We discussed changes that we needed to make in our lives and our desires for more 3 day weekends (mine would be from Saturday to Monday, while I proposed my husband’s be from Friday to Sunday). We talked about our kids and which ones needed to try harder and which ones needed to focus more. We looked at houses.
As we walked by the river, we passed a couple walking in the opposite direction. “Good morning,” they chimed. “Good morning,” we said back. As soon as they were out of hearing range, my sister said, “You gotta love the Midwest.” This sort of casual acknowledgement of the existence of other people doesn’t happen everywhere. This camaraderie of strangers who are all going through life in the same general place. Our experiences and tragic back stories didn’t matter. There is no guarantee that even in this village I will ever run into these people again. It doesn’t matter. Sometimes it is the basic nod to your presence that changes the direction of your day.
At the craft fair, I didn’t know anyone. I was pretty sure that the woman sitting on the bench was someone I had run into at a bar when we finally had a date night a few weeks ago. She was not in a state the night I met her to be able to recognize me. That night she had told me some pieces of her life that I weren’t sure should be brought out into the daylight. I didn’t approach. 
As we walked along and looked at the booths, I quietly discussed what I look for at craft fairs. “Anything I can’t make myself easily. Anything useful and unique. And with all of that, it has to be priced correctly.” That being said, we left without purchasing anything.
I pulled out my map in order to find the way from the church to the grocery store. The quickest way to the road we needed was through the edge of a cornfield. My niece complained about the smell of the cow manure. I suggested that perhaps she’s lived in the city too long. There weren’t sidewalks and as we walked down the road, cars would pass us. Sometimes we had to scoot closer to the ditch. The grass is still winter grey with little flecks of green starting to poke through. The trees are starting to get tiny leaf buds. The sun was warm on us as we walked.
At one point we passed a possum on the side of the road. Possums are very near the bottom of the list of creatures I don’t care for. My sister and niece felt similarly. “Hurry past it, you never know if those things are actually dead.” We passed a weasel of some sort while a car was coming toward us. We got much closer to that thing than I felt comfortable with. We passed a stump that was part of a fence and veered off the road to peer into its hollowness. It reminded me of the tree Pippi Longstocking had in her yard, although the thought of trying to climb into it made me a bit nervous. 
“Look a dead banana peel!” I pointed out. My niece thought it might’ve been a snake. It’s still too cold for snakes to be active. We discussed how water moves under the ice. Life continues on under the hard surface waiting for spring.
Groceries were purchased and loaded into the backpack. We started the journey back to my house munching on cheese curds. They were still fresh enough to have a little squeak in my teeth. We stopped to look at some chickens in someone’s yard. “I’d have chickens,” I said. “But they’d have to be on the back part of my lot and I’d have to have someone else get the eggs. And I’d have to have someone else kill them because what’s the point of chickens if you don’t have eggs and meat?” My sister pointed out, quite rightly, that perhaps I was better off not having chickens. They terrify me. I am sure they are judging me and plotting to kill me.
The rest of the walk home was uneventful, except exchanging hellos with a woman walking her dog. My sister, again, marveled at the midwesterness of it all. 
When we got back into the house, I took a moment to regroup and then started applying my talents to the kitchen. “If there are going to be 14 people, I should have 3 desserts, right?” I had asked my husband before we left. One of those was these delicious Corn Flake Bars. 
If you can make Rice Krispie Treats without burning them (totally not calling you out, dear sister, but…) you can make this yummy dessert. 
They didn’t make it through the night. 
Corn Flake Bars
4 Cups Corn Flakes
1 Cup Coconut
1/3 Cup Slivered Almonds
Melt together:
1/2 lb Marshmallows
1/3 Butter or Oleo
Spread 9×13 pan. Melt large Hershey Bar and Spread on Top. All of the melting can be done in the microwave.
If you like cookies with cornflakes try Mystery Cookies. If you like easy cookie recipes, try Unbaked Cookies.
