“Girls Scouts Together”

That is our song.

What does this have to do with Food? Well read on. She said munching Ants on a Log, though no ants for me.

I never made it to Cadets, though that uniform is amazing!

It most definitely is a Union.

I was in Brownie Troop 395, a crew of 2nd and 3rd grade girls, including yours truly, trying to navigate the treacherous waters of elementary school life in good ol' Robert P. Gage School here in Rochester, MN.

Yes, that could fool you about my age but Gage was built the year before I got there. Around 1965 or so. I’m not actually doing the math but something like that. The truth is out.

Same today as it was in 1965

But I started Brownies as a third grader, a year behind in the Brownie game. And for someone with leadership goals I was determined to catch up faster than you can say "Thin Mints”. Armed with my uniform, my Brownie handbook, and tons of ambition, I dove headfirst into the world of Brownies. Why? Well, obviously, I had my eyes set on those coveted Jr. Scouts. I mean the perks – selling cookies, badges, overnight camp, patrols, and the ultimate prize: Patrol Leader. Have I ever mentioned I’m a leader not necessarily a follower.

I suck at sports though.

The handbook.

So Brownies was all about embracing the Girl Scout way. I learned the promise like my life depended on it (because, let's be real, there actually was a test). I crafted a sit-upon out of newspapers and oilcloth, ready to brave any hike that was planned, which generally was at Quarry Hill. PS- we actually got to go into the caves.

Hiking meant packing our own "nosebag" lunches. Nosebag? yeah, a bag lunch named after the ones horses wore while munching oats. Back in the olden days.  My nosebag lunch was a marvel, a step above the mundane fare at home and certainly oats. Thanks, Mom! I mean I had pop! Which was reserved for special occasions only and in this case, Shasta grape soda, wrapped in tin foil to keep it frosty. Kind of.  Sandwiches crafted from peanut butter or bologna (sometimes that mysterious square of minced ham), and the pièce de résistance—Cheetos! Dessert? Oreos, because homemade cookies were basically cheaper and generally baked on the regular at home. Ever tried Potato Chip Cookies? I've got stories. They involve feeding them to donkeys.

PHOTO NOTE: Photo was found at girlscoutsaz.blog and I had to borrow it to show you!!  I so remember doing this with my lunch!!

Though the lunch was memorable, so were songs we belted out on our enduring hikes, complete with walking sticks and those sit-upons tied around our waists.

"Girls Scouts Together," that is our song, winding the old trails, rocky and long, learning our motto, living our creed, Girl Scouts together in every good deed.”

At the end of my Brownie year it was time to cross that bridge to the Jr Scouts. It was called bridging, and it was a solemn ceremony, which of course ended with cookies and punch.

Oh man, that just sprang a memory. At each scout meeting, someone was assigned to bring a snack. There was a snack bucket, which was a plastic ice cream pail with felt brownie emblems glued on the top and "Troop 395" written across the front. Sometimes it was store-bought cookies, but most times something homemade. Brownies, of course, were a favorite, but the Special K Bars mixed with peanut butter and a frosting glaze of butterscotch and chocolate. Perfection in my Brownie book.

Anyway, back to the bridging ceremony. You crossed a homemade bridge decorated with crepe paper to the awaiting Junior Scout leader who shook your hand, as you recited the Girl Scout promise. Three fingers up for Girl Scouts. You received your new pin and sash and achievement washed over you like you just received the gold medal.

Finally, on to Junior Scouts. Selling cookies and overnight camps.

50 cents a box. I tell that to every Girl Scout I see during cookie season because… I guess cuz I’m old and you have to do that.

In a Jr Scout Troop 517 there were patrols with patrol leaders and assistant leaders. My leadership antennas were up. Mostly because for every camping trip, each patrol needed a menu to be designed. I was totally up for the task! Breakfast: French toast and sausage, Beanie Weenie Casserole for lunch, and Foil Dinners with Banana Boats for dessert. I had a plan and I was ready to get it rolling. But that wasn’t going to happen, at least not the first year. I mean, you had Joan Lasky and Sheryl Atkinson in 5th and 6th grade who were The patrol leaders.

So while I waited out my time to shine I sold cookies, I believe about 144 boxes, one year, at 50 cents a box I might ad. This earned me points to use towards Camp Edith Mayo, a two-week overnight camp with girls from everywhere! Camp Edith Mayo was a millions miles from home. Specifically 4228 8th St SW, Rochester, MN 55902, it’s just a few miles from the house I currently live in. But for a 4th going into 5th grader it might as well been Alaska.

“Make new friends but keep the old. One is silver and the other gold”

Photo courtesy of River Trails Girl Scouts

So I headed to camp. I was so homesick the first night. I feverishly wrote letters home, likely begging to come home. The next day I rode a horse and promptly fell off. More letters home. However, I did excel *cough in archery, so I decided to stay. I met a girl from Winona MN and another from Austin MN and we all became fast friends. We camped out under the stars after roasting Angels in a Halo, (a glazed donut with a marshmallow in the center roasted over the fire). Come on… can I say heavenly. We cooked a hearty hamburger stew with crunchy potato and carrot cubes over the campfire and peach cobbler in a dutch oven that was glorious. See, a food trend.

On Sunday the Catholic girls put on fresh clean shorts and loaded a bus for mass at St Johns. I don’t know we didn’t pack a lunch it was hours away and seriously what if we missed lunch?

We tied Bear Scares bracelets, learned about plants and went on snipe hunt.

One night the sirens blew and we all ran from our tents to the lodge. I was terrified of tornados and spent the first part of the storm continuously worried my Dad would be home out in the back yard to inspect and be swept way ala Dorothy. In the lodge we sang song after song to get through the storm. I belted out “Joy is Like the Rain” and was oddly calmed and of course the storm passed.

The two weeks flew by and pick up day was here. Again tears flowed this time because who wanted to leave??? Not me! We made promises to write, forever penpals. I mean I guess traveling to Winona would have been like London.

“Whene’er you make a promise consider its importance and when made, engraved it upon your heart”

Recently, I stumbled upon a relic from those bygone days—a Song Fest Program from 1969 or so. Oh, the effort it must have taken to craft that! And, three copies, almost untouched by time. Ah, memories! And there, amidst the pages, LeeAnn Lowrie, CO- leader. Sigh. A step behind Teresa Atkinson, at least for a time. Well just wait until I showed up at International Night with my Cheese Soufflé.