I have a funny story to share, that a co-worker passed on to me..over Christmas she waited for her dear Ma, to send a gift package across the vast country. And when she collected the battered parcel, from the leering clerk, in the depths of the old filthy depot ….expecting her dearly missed home canned peaches, moose sausage and fresh baked treats, carefully wrapped in her provinces flag, were twelve jars of pickled beets!!.
The jars were sealed, but scrutiny revealed, her mum had not screwed lids on tight, oh the mess had any of them popped, Godfrey cried, let us dance the Beets Galore Jig tonight!!.
With hand on hip do the bow-legged prance with style. Dance three steps back, head up the produce aisle.
Three steps forward, face the tomatoes, smile. Then swing your partner over the onion pile.
“Oh once I had a fine old shirt of great nobility. It was sadly mistaken for a rag and stolen away from me. I used the shirt as a laundry bag, undies rolled discreet inside, it billowed in the wind as I did ride”….My shirt was of cotton, soft and big, in my shirt I danced The Beets Galore Jig.
Oh they come now fresh and dried and jarred, piled in bunches near the chard, they oft touch the mushrooms I love so, they stain the Deli where I dare not go.
Beets are spread on the roads in ice and snow.
Dance the Beets Galore Jig, next rinse your partner where the carrots are sprayed, hold her hand where the beets are displayed, lift her high to the scale where bananas are weighed.
“Oh my dad loathed leeks to Ma’s dismay” He told me “nothings so bad can’t be danced away” Naive’ and simplistic? Yes you say, “old dad he danced on his merry way”.
Beet Juice in bottles pint to gallon big. When baked deep in a cake dance the Beets Galore Jig, when all else fails, take your partner gently, and dance the Beets Galore Jig..