 Bubble and Squeak |
| The Washington Women's Cook Book, published in 1908, was dedicated "To the first woman who realized that half of the human race were not getting a square deal..." ©2008 Linda Allen Bubble and Squeak, piccalilli, piccalilli, Bubble and Squeak, vinegar pie Bubble and squeak, beet pickle chow chow Serve it up for women's rights Clam chowder, clam croquettes, clam fritter, clam puree Oyster omelet, oyster cocktail, scalloped oysters, If you please Hungarian stew, German pancakes, Turkish cream, Egyptian rice Welsh rarebit, Yorkshire pudding, We are made of sugar and spice CHO Docewallups rainbow trout, try Puyallup cauliflower Yakima tomato soup, Women's votes for Women's power Hardtack pudding, suet pudding, devil's food, divinity Snowball doughnut, lightning cake, Women's votes will set us free CHO Pressed meat, mince meat, boiled tongue, beef brawn, Sea birds, shark tails, lutefisk Mrs. Oakley's sheep tongue Spanish, Be bold. Ladies, take some risks! Miss Whelan's peanut candy, Mrs. Thompson's Jonny Cake Mrs. Wardall's Prison Fare, What a world we will create! CHO from Where I Stand In order to truly celebrate the raising up of women's voices through the ballot box, we need to understand the realities of the silencing of women's voices and experience in our history. Here is one woman's story, with thanks to Linda Lawrence Hunt (see her book, Bold Spirit). Helga Estby È1988 Linda Allen I'll never forget the first time I saw her She and her daughter just outside Spokane In her high button shoes, a gun on her shoulder Settin' off on a wager to walk across the land Helga and her husband were hard workin' farmers But the year of 1896 had brought them to their knees For Ole had been crippled, Helga's health was fading If they didn't pay their taxes soon the farm would be seized Then Helga had an offer from secret New York sponsors To earn ten thousand dollars to walk across the land So one clear May morning, with winter frost still forming They set off on the railroad track East of Spokane We are all on a journey, and who can know the end? It's hidden in the promises, scattered by the wind But she walked across this country, It was all that she could do Helga Estby of Spokane, we will remember you Near the end of the journey, Clara sprained her ankle But they made it to New York on a cold December day The sponsors were sorry, but they never paid a penny They'd walked four thousand miles, but they got there three days late In May they returned to a heart-broken family Two children they'd buried, the farm would be lost In their grief and anger, they hid the walk in silence Too bitter the memory, too high was the cost Many years later in nineteen and twenty In a small Spokane attic, Helga sorted her notes She'd locked the door tightly, but her mind still could journey She picked up her pen and she secretly wrote And the years fell away. She wrote of the people. The beauty of the desert with Clara by her side But when she died, her daughter burned every paper But her memory was stronger, her story survived. CHORUS |