Nothing and Chewed Bread

I just returned from a week in Colorado. Wow, what a majestic place.

We did absolutely nothing in Pagosa Springs and Durango, two of the greatest places to do nothing you'll ever find.

I know. I'm retired and I can do nothing better than anybody.

I did stand on our balcony one afternoon and watch my brother-in-law fish from the lake bank about 30 feet from our condo. Fortunately, he didn't catch anything or fall in, so it was a successful fishing excursion.

My wife and I and her sister and her husband went to all the high places.

I particularly enjoyed Mesa Verde and Wolf Creek Pass. At Wolf Creek Pass, we were so high I couldn't breathe. But when you're not doing anything, breathing's not that important.

At a museum on Mesa Verde I learned how to make chewed bread. I copied the recipe because I knew you'd want it.

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Chewed Bread

- Shuck a whole bunch of corn and save the shucks. Shell the corn and grind it up really fine. Then, chew the corn meal until your saliva turns the starch into sugar. How much you have to chew depends on how sweet you want the bread and how tired your jaws get. Mix the chewed meal with more unchewed meal.

- Dig a hole in the ground 4 feet in diameter and one foot deep and line the hole with your cleanest corn shucks.

- Pour in three inches of corn meal and cover with more more corn shucks. Then cover it all with three or four inches of moist dirt and build a fire on top.

- Let the fire burn all night.

- Next morning, proudly serve your family the best chewed bread anywhere.

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My wife wasn't as excited about the recipe as I was. It reminded her of her public health days when poor moms in a South Dallas housing project had to chew their baby's food because they couldn't afford to buy strained baby food in a jar like most folks.

Nurses can poop your party sometimes, but the retired ones are still fun to do nothing with.

One day we drove up Cat Creek Gap along the Navajo Trail. We were the only ones on the trail. Not one Navajo showed himself. Just God's majestic mountains on both sides of the incredible San Juan River.

Road signs warned us to watch for deer and elk. I kept watching but all we saw was one rabbit scurry (hop really fast) across the road. And there was not one sign warning us to watch for rabbits.

I just love Colorado.

But, sigh, now I'm back home in Texas.

Not doing much of anything here either.

Might try to make some chewed bread but I always hated digging ovens.