Farmers Weekly Review

By Nick Reiher

Ever wonder at the end of a day if you’re making a difference at all?

I mean, not too many of us just had to “settle” for a three-year, $80 million contract like Cody Bellinger of the Cubs. Nor is it likely we will achieve the heights of a Taylor Swift and use all that star power to nab a Super Bowl-winning tight end.

Well, let me tell you about a couple people basking in relative anonymity:

Like many on Super Bowl Sunday, our family has a tradition. Tammy will make a batch of over-baked caramel corn, loaded with nuts, for us to munch on. Some of it even manages to make it to game time.

It is ooey-gooey and addictive. But even the wonderfully sweet mixture that binds the popped kernels can’t help if those little seeds escape the heat of the air popper and remain unpopped on the bottom of the bowl. Or worse, attached to a popped kernel like a little tooth-cracking barnacle.

The key to making sure that doesn’t happen is having the freshest popcorn possible. Generally, that doesn’t mean off the store shelves. But, what choices have we?

Manhattan Renaissance Man and Farmers Weekly Review columnist John Kiefner gave us a couple bags of fresh unpopped popcorn a few years back. That worked pretty good, but we haven’t seen more in a while.

Until now. But not from John.

Regulars at Hey Hot Dog in Joliet know you can get much more than good hotdogs, Polish and barbecue sandwiches, along with homemade root beer. Depending on the season, you can some of the best sweet corn around, as well as tomatoes, peppers, watermelon and squash.

As I was dropping off some papers there a while back, I noticed bags of unpopped popcorn sitting on the inside of the windows. Owner B.J. Uedelhofen said his son, Logan, grew it, picked, husked, stripped and bagged it.

For Logan, whom his Dad says wants to work in agriculture, this was his first foray into the retail market. I thought, well, the Big Game is coming up; we need fresh popcorn, and here we are. For $6 a bag.

Later, I heard the whirring of the air popper, and then some sounds of wonder from Tammy. Not only were the seeds popping like champs, they were so large, she had to use three baking pans to mix the caramel instead of two.

And the taste? Amazing, and very, very few “widows.”

Logan, great job. You keep at it. You’ve made a difference already. And we will be back for more, long before the next Super Bowl.

Then, just after Christmas, I heard a loud clunk from the living room. The little wooden shelf where we kept our wedding candles and a couple mementoes somehow fell. A little ceramic angel bell broke, but I was able to fix it. Luckily, the “Our first Christmas” bears landed on the Christmas tree skirt and was fine.

Until I put the shelf and everything on it back up again. A few days later, another clunk. This time, the bears bought it.

I was so proud I was able to find another set of the bears on eBay. But it said 1986 instead of 1987, like our original. And, of course, didn’t have our names.

This time, I was not so lucky when looking for someone who might be able to change it, including the manufacturer of the little bears. Then, my friend Lisa Las suggested I call Ceramic Creations, LLC, on Theodore Street. Erika and NaTasha.

It’s funny; I’ve been around that businesses at least once a week for years, dropping off papers at Donut Den on Theodore Street, in the same strip mall as CC. In my defense, they are open mostly on weekends, so I didn’t notice. And, well, donuts.

Erika and NaTasha looked at the little figurine as though it were the Maltese Falcon, and handled it just as ceremoniously. They weren’t sure they would be able to put our names tiny enough on each of the bears.

I said, look. My handwriting looks like an EEG taken while someone is watching the Will County Board meeting. No one’s in the house is much better. I told them I trust them.

They did a great job. So much so, the figurine now is in the China cabinet; not the shelf, which has not fallen since. And since they didn’t think it was perfect enough, they did it free.

Erika and NaTasha made a difference. And they can for you, too, if you and/or your friends sign up for ceramics classes. Make ‘em, paint ‘em, and they’ll fire ‘em in a kiln on the premises.

Thank you, ladies.

If you know of any others who may not get the credit they deserve, let me know. We can give ‘em at “ataperson” right here.

Nick Reiher is editor of Farmers Weekly Review.