Country Notebook
By Rogene "Jeannie" McPherson
What do a cake mix, carton of eggs, and bottles of ketchup have in common? Give up? Or perhaps you guessed the answer from the title of this story. All were expired.
While preparing hamburgers, my son found two unopened catsup bottles marked, “better used by June 2022.” He insisted they be thrown away. I secretly kept one for making meatloaf. As I began preparations for a cake intended for a church dinner, I checked the expiration date. Yup, it too expired a long time ago as in April 2022. The eggs expired in May 2024. The cake mix went into the trash. The eggs went to feed the poor, as in hungry raccoons or opossums wandering around in the dark, far away from my house. I’ll use eggs in baking if a few weeks outdated, but a few months is even too much for me.
There was a time when it was rare to find any expired food items in my kitchen, but that was when I had a growing family. I don’t cook like I did in the good old days. Like my mother once said, “The older I get, the faster time flies.” I know that doesn’t make sense, but I agree. Perception is in the eye of the beholder. I just can’t believe I had that cake mix for several years. It seems like only yesterday I bought it for a grandchild’s 11th birthday, and she will soon be 14.
The Saturday morning after watching the Friday night bull riding contest at the Linn County Fair and Rodeo, I held onto the side of the bed, barely able to get my left hip joint to move. My first inclination was to wonder if those poor cowboys who bit the dust bouncing off the bucking bull felt anything like I did. If so, I really would like to interview them in about 40 years to ask how many joint replacement surgeries they’ve experienced. I’ve never ridden a bull and only a Shetland pony a couple of times. But even so, I’ve had so many joint replacements I could practically do the procedure myself.
Another way to say this is that some of my joints met their expiration dates and had to be replaced. As my orthopedic surgeon says, “The new joint is not as good as the original equipment, but it’s close.” In some ways, life is better than the good old days. My grandparents suffered from worn out joints in the days before surgery was available. The medications of old were few in number and likely not very effective. I remember my grandfather taking bi-yearly trips to the hot springs of northern Kansas believing it gave some temporary relief.
Forty years from now will those cowboys be able to have cartilage interventions that are typically successful? Before my second knee replacement, I met with a doctor willing to give me the cartilage-building injections for a mere $10K to $15K. By then I was retired, on Medicare and with my choice of a supplemental insurance plan, my out of pocket expenses for surgery was $0. Thank goodness my mind had not yet expired, and I had the surgery.
If one looks at how this story began, i.e. outdated eggs and ketchup, and ends with a discussion of joint replacements, maybe my mind has begun expiring. In defense, the story is really about time. We can’t stop it. We are all given the same amount each day. We can choose to waste time or put it to good use. Cowboys and cowgirls are athletes and train accordingly.
I probably don’t have a good excuse as to why my body sometimes hurts, but I certainly didn’t sit around trying to preserve it either. The good old days really were good, and I loved it all. That’s worth a whole lot more than the occasional food item I discard.
Rogene “Jeannie” McPherson, from the Centerville area, is a regular contributor to the Linn County Journal. Her latest book Posts from the Country, Adventures in Rural Living is available online in both virtual and printed editions. Copies are on the shelves at all Linn County libraries.
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