A few weeks ago I posted a photo of clover on my Facebook page. It was a popular picture, bringing lots of comments about playing in clover patches and making clover bracelets and necklaces. But I was surprised to learn there were people who had never heard of this childhood ritual.
Last week at the Hemingway-Pfeiffer writer retreat, our conversation turned to the importance of telling our stories. Stories that will soon be lost if left untold. Things that today’s kids may not know.
Like making homemade ice cream. Pouring ice and salt around the canister. Turning the crank until it wouldn’t churn. Covering the freezer with a thick towel. Waiting and waiting for fresh peach ice cream. The process was one of the best parts of summer.
And making clover necklaces and bracelets? I decided I’d better write about it. It’s worth remembering.
Step One. On a sunny spring day, gather clover.
Step Two. Press a small slit in the stem of the first clover about an inch from the flower. The stems are tender, so this can easily be done with your fingernail. Ideally, clover necklaces are made on the school playground surrounded by best friends, laughter and daydreams. No utensils required…
Step Three. Thread the stem of a second clover through the slit of the first stem. Repeat this process, making your next slit on the second clover. Weave the third clover through the slit on the second clover. Don’t overthink. Remember, this is a fun, easy, imperfect activity.
Step Four. Continue until your clover rope has reached the size you want for a bracelet, necklace or crown. Yes, clover crowns were all the rage on the Keiser Elementary School fourth grade playground…
Step Five. Connect the last clover to the first stem the same way, with a small slit. Now your clover ring is connected. Snip the long pieces of stem if you prefer.
I doubled my clover chain bracelet and proudly wore it to lunch.
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee,
One clover, and a bee,
The revery alone will do,
If bees are few.
I Remember When I Was Young, Matt Taylor