• Originally published October 5, 2009 at midnight, updated October 5, 2009 at 7:50 p.m.

• JANET'S BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP

  4 bacon slices

  4 large garlic cloves, chopped

  1 tsp. caraway seeds

  2 pounds butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and chopped

  1/2 pounds carrots, chopped

  1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored, and chopped ...

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JANET'S BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP

4 bacon slices

4 large garlic cloves, chopped

1 tsp. caraway seeds

2 pounds butternut squash, peeled, seeded, and chopped

1/2 pounds carrots, chopped

1 Granny Smith apple, peeled, cored, and chopped

3 thyme sprigs

2 bay leaves

31/2 cups reduced-sodium chicken broth

2 cups water

3/4 tsp. salt

1/2 tsp. pepper

1 to 11/2 tsp. cider vinegar

Cook bacon in a skillet over medium heat until crisp. Transfer bacon to paper towels and drain. Add garlic and caraway seeds to bacon fat in pot and cook for about one minute. Then add squash, carrots, apple, thyme, bay leaves, broth, water, 3/4 teaspoon salt, and 1/2 teaspoon pepper and boil, uncovered, until vegetables are tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Remove thyme leaves and bay leaves.

Purée about 4 cups of soup in a blender. Be careful when blending hot liquids. You can blend in small batches and then return to pot. Season with salt, pepper, and vinegar. Serve topped with crumbled bacon.

BUTTER NUT SQUASH - This large, cylindrical winter squash looks like a pear-shaped bat. It is typically about 8-12 inches long and 3-5 inches at its widest point. The squash will usually weight about three pounds. The color of the smooth surface ranges from yellow to camel. The flesh is orange and sweet. It can be baked, steamed or simmered.

I was talking with a friend last week and she was telling me that her child had been bullied at school by an older boy.

The situation had started with name calling but had recently escalated to the bully pushing and shoving her child.

She was very concerned that a fight would occur.

My friend had tried to role play with her son explaining how he could diffuse the situation with kind words but her child had only responded, " aaww mom.that won't work."

She had taken up the matter with the principal but little had been done.

After much soul searching she and her husband reluctantly told their son to take up for himself but not to throw the first punch.

Later I thought back to my elementary school years. I knew a bully during my second grade year at Dolby Elementary. In case he is reading this article and because I don't want his family to think less of him I will call him Jimmy.

Jimmy had a sister named Julie who happened to be my best friend. Julie and I had the same second grade teacher, Mrs. Lynch. Our desks were across the aisle from each other. Julie and I frequently spent the night at each other's houses. We loved playing dolls and dress up.

Julie was the youngest in her family and the only girl. She was small and thin with shoulder-length very blond hair and fair skin. A hour in the sun and Julie looked like a tomato. Even her scalp would turn red.

She had two older brothers but it was her middle brother, Jimmy, who caused us great amounts of grief. He was in the fourth grade when we were in the second. He thought he was the boss of us. He would frequently tease us and hide our dolls. Jimmy was the kind of kid who loved getting something from you and playing keep away with other fourth grade boys. He relished in making Julie's life miserable.

At school Jimmy was like Eddie Haskell. Eddie was a character on "Leave it to Beaver," which was a favorite television show during my elementary years. Beaver was the younger of two boys. His older brother, Wally, had a friend named Eddie. Eddie was the kind of guy who acted like a perfectly well mannered kid around adults but was a jerk or bully to Beaver and his friends. Eddie was always trying to get everyone else in trouble and pick fights with the little kids. In my young life I had very few life experiences in order to compare personalities but I knew Jimmy was exactly like Eddie Haskell.

One day during recess I had enough of Jimmy. Julie and I were playing on the monkey bars seeing if we could cross without falling. Knee socks wiggled down as you were crossing the bars so Julie stopped to pull her socks up. Jimmy came up behind her and pushed her down in the sand. I was slightly overweight as a second grader and I probably outweighed Julie by 20 pounds. OK, I might have been what was referred to as "stocky" or "husky."

I decided if there was ever a time to stand up for Julie it was now so when the taunting began and Jimmy got close enough, I punched him in the nose. He immediately fell backwards and was as still as a rock. His nose was bleeding in rivulets down the sides of his face. About this time my world stopped and beneath the blue sky I realized I had killed another child.

The recess bell started to ring and I ran into my second grade class right behind Julie. After all, when the bell rings you return to class, even if you did just snuff someone's lights out. It did not take long for our principal to show up at the door. I knew he would come looking for me, probably with the police. My teacher got up from her desk and met him in the hall. The class was perfectly quiet as is the case when an imposing authority figure like the principal is just outside the door. Mr. Blackmon entered the room and called my name. I leaned over out of view, pretending to get something from under my desk. There was a small shelf there where students placed their books. I looked over at Julie but she offered no support.

My teacher called me and I got up and followed him out of the room. He asked me to come to his office and we began to walk down the long hall, sort of like the Green Mile or "Dead Man Walking." I was trying to work out some sort of apology in my mind. I knew I would have to make amends to him, and probably to Julie's parents, once they found out I killed their son. I also figured my parents would probably want to whip me but it would be too late since I would already be in jail.

It seemed like the hall stretched as I passed room after room until we finally arrived at his office. He led me inside and he shut the door. Mr. Blackmon had not talked at all as we walked together but now he asked me if I wanted to say anything. I knew he paddled kids but at that point I would have welcomed the paddle.

I mustered up my small and penitent voice and said, "I did not mean to kill Jimmy, it was an accident." At this feeble attempt at an apology I began to sob.

Moments passed and I looked at him in terror of what must be coming. It was hard to read his expression since I was only in second grade but I could have sworn he was grinning.

He asked me to tell him the story of how I came to punch Jimmy in the nose and why I left him in the schoolyard (to die). I blurted out the story of the bullying, the teasing, the pushing, keep away games and finally the stuffing of Julie into the sand.

I explained that I had not meant to kill him but only to scare him. I told the story with the fervor of someone trying to escape death row.

He let me go on, nodding in agreement over the fact that Jimmie was a bully, but that I should not have punched him. He said that girls were not supposed to beat up boys and that it wasn't ladylike to punch a boy in the nose. He then explained that Jimmy was fine and sitting in his fourth grade classroom and that he wasn't dead.

I felt like jumping right out of that chair and hugging the principal and Jimmy too. He had apparently been brought back to life shortly after I left him for dead. A teacher on duty had witnessed my punch and reported to the principal after she had helped Jimmy wash his face.

Mr. B made sure I knew Jimmy had not tattled on me and he suggested I keep a safe distance from him for a day or two.

I returned to class beaming from ear to ear. A half an hour before I was headed for the electric chair at Angola State Penitentiary and now I was starting to write spelling words.

Life was really amazing. I had to wait until after school to explain to Julie that I had not killed her brother after all. I think she might have been somewhat disappointed. I remember being around Jimmy the next time I spent the night at their house. He did not even look me in the eye.

Although this story has nothing to do with the following recipe I felt like the soup was noteworthy at this time of year. I had the occasion to enjoy it one evening last week. My friend, Janet, who made it carefully explained that it was a diet soup. The very fact that she mentioned that must mean I am beginning to look husky.

Myra Starkey lives in Victoria. Write her in care of the Advocate, P.O. Box 1518, Victoria, TX 77901, or e-mail myra@vicad.com.

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