Summer On My Plate

Earlier this week, we decided to make a visit to a local business that has been a landmark in this area for many years.    It is easy to know when you've gotten there because of the huge Jolly Green Giant that stands guard over the building and its contents.    Known far and wide as Bailey's Farmer's Market, all the locals depend heavily on the things they sell all year round from the Christmas trees that they bring in every November to the huge pallets of collard greens and sweet potatoes and big cardboard boxes filled to the brim with a variety of watermelons just begging to be iced and then sliced into big, pink grins of pure summer enjoyment.  

But the quintessential thing that people come to Bailey's to buy in the summer are on the flat tables overflowing with shelled field peas and speckled butter beans.   Sure, they sell 'em in the shell and many of their customers would have it no other way but to buy them in the shell and spend the hours it takes to shell a huge bag of peas or butter beans to have for supper that night or to "put up" for later on when the season for growing them is long gone.    The difference between buying them shelled, ready for the pot and buying them in the shell that means hours of sitting, shelling and dealing with sore fingers for days is not insignificant.  I picked up that scoop and filled my bag without hesitation with the tempting beauties that were pot ready, even if they cost a lot more.    Larry opted for a pound of the ones in the shell, just to see how much we'd get if we shelled 'em ourselves and saved a bundle over the ones that Bailey's kindly shelled for us.  

Once inside their fruit and vegetable stand most people are unable to resist buying other things so enticingly displayed and begging to be placed in the brown paper bags they have conveniently placed all around the bins.    So it was that we happened to also buy some yellow squash, vine ripe tomatoes, Georgia peaches, jalapenos and pablano peppers, Japanese Eggplant and two varieties of sweet potatoes.   Falling under their spell is not easy to resist and we were not the only ones milling around, picking and pawing over the fresh veggies destined to be on many dinner plates that night.   





Obviously we couldn't cook all of the things we bought in one day so we have spread out our wealth throughout this week, enjoying and discussing the merits of each thing that showed up on our plates.    Yesterday I prepared a large pot of the Zipper Peas combined with Pink Eyed Purple Hull peas and served them over rice.   We still had a large hunk of corn bread from a previous meal that included some of those Speckled Butter Beans that found their way into my sack.    I was looking for something else to include with our peas and cornbread when I spied a couple of beautiful specimens of tomatoes sitting on the counter---waiting their turn to be on the menu.    So I sliced them into thick and thin slices.   People tend to come from one of the two schools of thought on the proper slicing of a tomato:   A. It should be sliced into a nice, thick slab or B. God forbid you cut it thick and instead make it as thin as possible, requiring a razor sharp knife to get the deed done correctly.    Since we have one of each in our household, we get both styles---thick and thin slices.



As I sat down and stared at my plate I couldn't decide where to start first but ended up taking a mouthful of the peas and rice.    For a moment, I thought I might swoon.    It was so good, so flavorful and delicious I was instantly struck with how iconic it was for most of my youth, having spent the majority of that time growing up in Mississippi.   Peas and cornbread are standard fare in the South during the summer.   You just couldn't escape having that if you grew up in Mississippi during the 50s and 60s.    I suspect it may still be that way, but for sure that's how it was back then.  

And then I realized that I had Summer On My Plate.    For a few moments, I was transported back in time ---- a time so far away that you'd think the memory would have faded into infinity.   But no.   It was still there, embedded like all the other memories of that time.    On our recent camping trip with the grandkids, they were pleading....no begging me to tell story after story about when I was a kid.    And the stories just kept coming and the more I told, the more they wanted to hear.     I never got to this one but this is one that maybe I'll get around to telling them on the next trip.

Every summer between the ages of about 9 until I was a teen ager, my sister, Ginny and I spent with my older sister, Charlotte, her husband, Wilson and my niece, Rebecca.    It was not unusual for us to spend a big part of the summer with them, which was just fine with us because life was never dull with them and besides, we absolutely adored our older sister and Rebecca was our very own Little Princess.  Wilson was studying to be an ordained minister and spent several years in Kentucky at seminary and later came back to Mississippi to begin his career as a United Methodist Minister.    Only back then he was mainly called Brother Brent.   

All of the churches he served tended to be way out in the country, down dusty roads, back in the woods and getting there usually entailed a long ride in a hot, un-air conditioned car.   Once you got there the church had all the windows slightly open and a fan would be humming in the background.    Occasionally,  a wasp would come in during the middle of the service adding a new reason for praying earnestly during the morning prayer.   

Every summer, along with Vacation Bible School, churches had a Revival Service that might last for one week and once in a while up to two weeks.  It was the common practice to invite a guest preacher to come in to do the nightly preachin' and if their budget could stand it, they would bring in an Evangelist to be their guest speaker.    Wilson was sometimes invited to go to other churches while another preacher might come to his church to preach.   When Wilson went to preach a revival it always included all of us.....Charlotte, Rebecca, Ginny and me.    We'd load up the car, drive to the church and get treated like honored guests wherever we went.  

One thing about that time---churches certainly couldn't afford to pay their guest speaker a lot of money, but they sure could feed us.     Since it was summer the bounty coming in from their gardens was plentiful.     And since it was the PREACHER coming to their house to eat, you can bet they pulled out all the stops to present a meal fit for a king.    It was not unusual to have three or four kinds of meat at one meal:  fried chicken, ham, pork chops and roast beef.    Then there were the vegetables.   Oh my word!    Peas, butter beans, fresh greens, squash, mashed potatoes (the real kind, not something out of a plastic bowl and microwaved), string beans, fresh tomatoes.    It truly was overwhelming to see the vast array that would be put on the table for us.    And that certainly didn't include the desserts that were awaiting us.     Those things would take up a table all by themselves.   

And so it went summer after summer.    And if we weren't attending a revival, we were going to Dinner on the Grounds.    You have not lived until you have been to a true "Dinner on the Grounds" in rural Mississippi in the summer time.    Every cook in the county tries to out-do every other cook and the sight of a long row of banquet size tables with dish after dish is enough to make a strong person buckle under the pressure.    No short cuts, no Kentucky Fried Chicken buckets or deli containers of potato salad there.   The feast would start shortly after church services ended for the morning and would go on long into the afternoon.     Desserts would come out later on and it's for sure there would be cakes, banana pudding, pies and a variety of congealed (Jell-o) salads in every color of the rainbow.   

Later on there might be singing.    Many of the churches Wilson served had musicians who would form into groups to sing gospel songs familiar to all who heard them.     They would pound out the tunes on an old upright piano, that was only slightly out of tune and frequently had a key or two that would stick.    Sometimes there would be someone who played a fiddle or guitar.    But mostly it was the piano and a trio or quartet of singers, accompanied by others in the congregation who wanted to sing along to the familiar and comforting tunes.    

As the afternoon faded into sunset, the preacher (Wilson or invited guest) would take the to the pulpit once again to bring a message to the (usually) packed pews.    Once I remember Wilson had invited his Uncle Jimmy to preach a revival.    He and his wife, Aunt Kitty, were true Missionaries and had been to all sorts of interesting and far lands doing their missionary work.    Uncle Jimmy was what some people would call a "Fire and Brimstone" preacher since he often preached on the Book of Revelations.    When he got finished with a sermon, you KNEW you had been preached to by a master since he usually had his audience in the palm of his hands when he got to the end.    He could also scare the living life out of you if you were young and impressionable, like I was.    If the hair on the back of your neck was not raised when he preached, you weren't listening to him.   

And this is how many of my summers were spent when I was a kid.    Funny how a plate of peas and cornbread could bring all that back in one bite.    Those memories of my life are from a time long ago and so so far away.    My life was really simple then, as was the life of many people in my life.     I think the reason that we tend to gravitate back to things from long ago is that they are familiar and in some ways comforting. 

You see most of the people in the story I've related to you are gone now.    Charlotte in 2000, Ginny in 2003 and Wilson in 2010.     Rebecca and I often say to each other, "We're all we've got left."   That's not quite true but we each know what we mean when we say that.    We are the only ones left who hold the memories of that time in our lives like a king holds his treasured jewels.    In some magical sort of way, when I go back in time and relive those memories, it brings those dear ones back to me for a little while.    I miss them so much and it comforts me to have those great stories about shelling and eating butter beans, bouncing down dusty roads on the way to a tiny church in the distance and walking out into a moonlit night with the heavy scent of honeysuckle in the air.   It brings them alive once more and for a little while I am thirteen again when life was simple and easy.  

So if you have a Farmer's Market in your town or maybe even have a garden spot in your backyard, enjoy the summer bounty.    You never know where that bowl of butter beans and zipper peas will take you.    Maybe somewhere special, magical and comforting.



Happy Trails,

Marcia  
 

Eat Good Food While You Camp Without Spending All of Your Time at the Stove

Anyone who has ever gone camping knows that preparing and providing good food that is not a chore to make can be a real challenge.    I remember going camping once in my youth where the person planning our meals (it was a church youth group retreat) thought that having sandwiches for the entire long weekend was a good idea.   The adult chaperons and some of the kids were less than enthusiastic about that menu.   :( 

The possibilities for preparing tasty food while camping is infinitely easier today with the abundance of appliances that can be brought to the camp site.    Most campgrounds have electrical service and outdoor kitchens for their campers to use.     Our campers (a pop-up and a 31' travel trailer) both are equipped with propane stoves and the travel trailer has a combination 3 burner stove and oven.    The stove for the pop-up is portable and can be used inside the camper or set up outside.    After the weather starts to get warm the portability of that stove is really important so we can avoid heating up the camper to unbearable levels.  

We have found that by bringing along a few appliances we can increase the number of culinary creations we can prepare with a minimum of effort.     Crock pots are the cook's best friend, along with rice cookers, toaster ovens, George Foreman electric grill and waffle irons.     A cook center set up outside the camper keeps the heat out of the camper and the appliance handy so you can keep an eye on the food as it cooks. We have an awning that offers some protection but would have taken the appliance inside if rain was in the forecast.



Larry grills chicken using his George Foreman Electric Grill



On our most recent camping trip we brought along our Crock Pots.   Our daughter-in-law made a breakfast casserole for us that she put together shortly before we went to bed and was cooked to perfection when we got up the next morning.   The smell of the casserole woke us out of our slumber and, after we made a pot of coffee, we were enjoying our breakfast. The important thing about this method was it took very little time to put together and was ready to serve first thing the next morning.     I might add that the best thing to come along in a long, long time is the invention of a LINER for the Crock Pot, making clean up a breeze.    You simply pull the liner up and out of the pot and toss in a trash can.  Voila!    Clean Crock Pot.   

So one day when it was my turn to cook, I decided that the Crock Pot would simplify the process and help keep the heat to a minimum.   When we went to the store to buy supplies, I was thinking of how to cut down on prep time and also the length of time the dish would need to cook in order to get everything done.     I was planning to make a Chicken Taco Soup and ordinarily would have started the dish from scratch with raw chicken.    I was prepared to go that route when Larry suggested that I consider using rotisserie chickens.  DUH!   What a great idea!!    Starting with cooked chicken meant that the time in the Crock Pot could be reduced to just long enough to get the whole thing hot.

We bought two rotisserie chickens and then Larry kindly sacrificed his finger prints by deboning the chickens and we put the meat in a large Ziploc bag and stored it in the camper's refrigerator.    The next afternoon when I put the soup all together, all I had to do was pull out the bag of cooked chicken, a can of tomatoes, black beans, a box of chicken broth, frozen corn (could have used canned) and an envelope of Taco Seasoning.  Yeah, the little red packets that cost less than a dollar.   This step saves you from having to bring along a lot of bottles of spices to get the distinctive flavors you want.  I cut up an onion and sliced up two cloves of garlic, put that in a bowl, added a little olive oil and nuked it for a couple of minutes until the onion began to soften. (Our camper has a built in small microwave.)    I did this to help hasten the cooking time for the ingredients.

I lined the Crock Pot with a liner (yeah!! for liners), dumped in the chicken, tomatoes, beans, corn, chicken broth and sprinkled the taco seasoning over it all.    You could add more seasoning like salt and pepper if you like and parsley flakes if you have that.    Then I cooked the whole thing on high for about three hours.   If I had started with raw chicken it would have required a lot longer to cook to make sure the meat was done and not going to give us all salmonella.   

When we all sat down at the picnic table to eat, we brought over the pot of hot soup and passed around sour cream, shredded cheese, a jar of roasted bell peppers and corn chips.     If you have folks who enjoy a little heat, you can always add jalapenos to your soup or have a jar of peppers or hot sauce handy.    

We ate most of our meals outside in the screen house.



It was very easy to prepare and tasted very good, too.     When you think about cooking when you camp, try to simplify what you make but don't give up on having good, tasty meals.     We had grilled burgers one night, hot dogs and brats another, a Crock Pot chicken dish that had a wonderful sauce that we served over rice that was cooked in an electric rice cooker outside on our little cook center.    Larry made grilled chicken and grilled zucchini and squash one night with his George Foreman Electric Grill.   It is easy to clean up and cooks pork, chicken, burgers or veggies in a flash.   No need to worry about charcoal or firestarter.  With modern appliances, a little advance planning and modifying your recipes to make them easier to do at a camp site, you can eat rather well without breaking the bank or spending all your time slaving over a hot camp fire or camp stove.    Bon Appetit!    

Chicken Taco Soup
(This made enough to feed 3 kids and 4 adults and still have enough left overs for 2 or 3 more servings.)

2 Rotisserie Chickens, deboned
1 can of crushed tomatoes (28 oz.)
2 cans of black beans (14 oz. each)
1 1/2 - 2 cups of corn (frozen and allowed to thaw a little or canned)
1 box of chicken broth (32 oz.) 
1 Vidalia (or yellow) onion, chopped and cooked in microwave for 2 minutes or until soft
2 cloves of garlic, minced and cooked with onion in microwave to soften
1 tablespoon of Olive Oil
1 Envelope of Taco Seasoning
Salt, pepper and parsley flakes to taste

Line 6 qt. Crock Pot with a liner.    Add all ingredients and heat until hot and bubbly.   It may take several hours for your Crock Pot to reach this temperature but by using cooked chicken and canned beans you can significantly reduce the time necessary to make it safe to eat and for the flavors to blend.   Ours cooked for approximately 3 hours.

Serve with sour cream, grated cheddar cheese (or Queso Fresco) and your favorite corn chips!  Delicious, fast and tasty!   This tastes even better the next day after it sits in the refrigerator and the flavors "marry", as my big sis used to say.

Happy Trails,
Marcia

A Crafty Project with a Lampshade!

Some of you have probably seen me reference Pinterest in a few of my posts.   If you have not gotten

sucked into this vast array of decorating ideas, recipes, crafty projects, inspirational sayings, fashion and pure nonsense, you have no idea!    Even a casual glimpse of what lurks within its pages will stun and amaze you with the plethora of trivia, good ideas, cooking tips, innovative recipes and countless ways to separate you from hours of your time!  

Once in a while, however, you will stumble upon an idea or tip that is just too good to pass by and it gets pinned on your board for some time in the future when you decide to put the idea to use.  And so it was with me one day when I noticed a picture of a lamp shade entirely covered in buttons.     I immediately thought of two things:   an off-white lamp shade on a small lamp on my kitchen counter and a collection of buttons in my craft supplies that would make Hobby Lobby's owners blush in shame.     The lamp shade had gotten splashed (mostly with water) and had an assortment of blotches and discolored spots on it that were unsightly but mostly unnoticed as most things are that you see every day.     The lamp sits on the countertop near the kitchen sink and has gotten battle scarred and, in fact, I had thought several times about replacing the shade and just kept forgetting to measure it so I could do just that.   

Once I saw the picture of the button encrusted shade on Pinterest, I KNEW I had to try that idea out on my poor, pitiful, neglected shade.   So that was my project "du jour".   Which technically means "of the day", but in truth turned out to take more like two days.    



Lamp Shade with water stains and blotches  :(



Ugly lamp shade before my intervention!

The next step was to take a damp cloth and wipe off the entire shade for dust and anything else that didn't belong on it.    Then I assembled a sizable portion of my button stash, my hot glue gun and a disposable plate so I could start sorting my buttons into colors, shapes and sizes.      I wasn't sure exactly how I intended to procede with the project since I was working from a picture on Pinterest but no specific instructions.     So I just started randomly gluing some of the largest buttons around the shade, thinking that somewhere along the line I would get struck with inspiration and insight to what needed to happen next.    You HAVE done a project like that, haven't you?     I mean really.   Who has not started a project like this without a clear battle plan before making your first move?   

As I glued buttons I began to see that what was needed was a variety of large buttons, intersperced with smaller ones and a healthy mix of colors.     What also became apparent was that fitting the buttons together, especially as I got more and more glued to the shade would get trickier and a little bit more difficult since the buttons are not flexible and neither is the glue once it grabs hold and dries....which is almost instantly!      So at that point, I decided that my best move would be to stop gluing to the body of the shade and concentrate on putting the buttons around the top edge and the bottom edge of the shade.     



I used small buttons on the top edge.



I used slightly larger buttons on the bottom edge.

After I glued buttons on the top edge, as well as the bottom edge, I then began filling in buttons around the inside section of the shade until most of the white areas were filled.    There were some small sections that were left open and I had no buttons that would fit---believe me, I tried to make them fit.   As I said, buttons are NOT flexible so I concluded that I would need to fill in those gaps (if I wanted all the spaces filled) with something smaller.    I remembered that I had some small brads, as well as some dots and rhinestones with adhesive backing on them.   So I got those out to help fill in the remaining spaces.   

The result?     Well, here ya go!



So the lamp shade project is pretty much finished and I am basically happy with how it turned out.    I will probably go back and fill in a few more "gaps" between buttons but truthfully, the gaps are not THAT apparent when you are looking at it in person.    They tend to show up more in the photograph.    So whether I put on more embellishements is still up in the air.    The bigger issue is now that the shade is looking a tad more presentable, does it go with the lamp?   In a word, NO!    So I see another project in my future involving this lamp.     I have considered three options:  painting it, applying decoupage and encasing it in cloth that is gathered around the neck of the lamp.    Not sure yet what I'll do but when and if I do, I'll post pictures!  

In the meantime, if you find a lamp shade around your home that is need of help (I  recommend selecting a fairly small shade for a project like this) why not consider using this method to fix it?    Heck, you could even start with a BRAND NEW shade and do this!  All you need is a hot glue gun, an assortment of buttons or even a lot of one kind and color and some spare time to glue them to the shade.  Craft stores sell them in bulk so it's not hard to get an assortment of buttons for not much money.  Gluing the buttons is not difficult and you can put on some tunes, sing along and still glue buttons without too much risk of making a mistake.    One thing I forgot to mention is that if you do make a mistake and glue on a button and decide it's not the right size, shape or color, they tend to pop off pretty easily if you apply firm, upward pressure.   So it's a forgiving craft! 

One of the happy benefits of retirement is that every day you have the chance to work on projects like this that previously would have been put off to the weekend or on a day off.      Since every day is "Saturday" when you're retired, I don't have to do that.   Each day gives me the option of having fun and working on things that I choose to do rather than things that I MUST do.   No one mentioned that perk of retirement before I retired so let me be the first to say, it is one of the BEST things ever about being retired!   



Happy Trails~~~

Marcia 

Caution: Larry Wrote This Post!

A few days ago Marcia wrote a blog post about mustaches, etc.  She read it to me and at the end she had tears in her eyes.   So I thought perhaps it brought back some memories that made her tear up.   So I said, "Why are you crying?"   She said, "You're not a writer."  And I said,"Thank you for that endorsement."  So proceed with caution---you have been warned.   If you came here today expecting the same eloquent prose that you're used to reading on this blog, STOP reading now.   For you will be sadly disappointed.  

I spent the day doing a couple of projects I have been dragging my feet on.   I made a Camper Ramp to assist in replacing the camper tires.    If you want to know what this is, you can google the term "Trailer Aid" and find examples.  But mine is home made.  I may not be a writer but I do have some handyman skills.  (On edit:   Marcia says she is grateful for that!)  

Two pictures below will give you an idea of how this ramp works.    I am going to put it in action next week and will report back with pictures and let you know how well it worked or not.  

Trailer Ramp for Changing Tires

End View of Ramp



Another project I needed to do and have been putting off was the wheels needed to be painted on my truck.  They were rusted and pitted.   So I got the sandpaper out, sanded the rims, cleaned them, primed them and repainted.   Below are pix that show the process.   

Cleaned and Sanded

Primed

Completed Tire with New Paint



The upside of all this activity was I got two projects out of the way that needed to be done.   However, the downside is I got a sunburn and I missed my afternoon nap.  

Will report on the ramp after I put it into action next week.   If you got this far, thanks for reading.  

Hasta la Vista, Baby!
Larry

Mustaches, Mismatched Socks, Sequins and Penny Loafers

Larry and I just got back from walking at the mall.   Yes, we have joined the ranks of the other geezers in town and have gone for a daily walk three times this week.    I say "geezers" because the only people doing the walking are folks of our age and some quite a bit older than us.   And if you think I am being snarky to call them geezers, think again.    Many of those making their rounds were going a lot faster than us and had more pep in their step than many people half their age.    Quite the contrary, I admire those gray haired high steppers who are faithfully making their way through the tiled path at the local mall.  

The primary reason for our new found desire to walk the mall is the realization that we're too sedentary, too out of shape and just too lacking in energy to be healthy.    We have places to go, people to see and it's hard to do those things when you're "too pooped to pop" as Lucy Ricardo once said.    So after acknowledging that walking out in the fresh air along a nice, paved path down the street from our house is totally impractical when the humidity is 97 % and the mosquitoes have been known to carry off small dogs in our area, it dawned on us that there is a reason the mall opens 2 hours early for people to stroll along its empty hallways.      Climate controlled.    Safe.    Flat (except for a few ramps/steps).   Display windows with the latest fashions to entertain us.  Water fountains and bathrooms conveniently placed---just in case.   What more could anyone want?

So today as we meandered along looking at sequined tops, one shouldered sun dresses, Little Mismatch Socks, sparkly sandals and neon tennis shoes,  I suddenly knew why some of my younger relatives dress the way they do.   At family gatherings and celebrations, I have often marveled at their fashions but since I haven't darkened the doors of a mall until recently, I had no idea what the styles of the day had become.     This morning's outing certainly gave me an epiphany.   

There were a few things we saw that I attempted to explain to Larry since he is clueless when it comes to fashion.    His philosophy about clothing is that if it's clean, covers his nakedness and is not a white shirt, he is happy.   So as we were passing the Claire's I pointed out the mustache display that had a sign above it saying "Mustache Mania".    I mentioned to him that mustaches seem to be all the rage these days.   For girls.   That was as far as I got with the explanation because, frankly, I have NO idea how I know this nor do I know WHY it is a fad.    Maybe one of my readers could  leave a comment and fill me in on the details of this mysterious "must have".  

As I was pointing out the sequined, animal print tops in another display I felt a slight twinge as a memory stored somewhere deep within the folds of my cerebellum sprang to life.     It was 1963 and my family had just moved to Ft. Worth, Texas from Jackson, Mississippi.    I had just finished 9th grade and was anticipating going to high school for the first time the next fall.    Naturally a girl of that age starts noticing what the other girls are wearing.    I was involved in my church youth group shortly after we moved to Texas so among the first things I noticed was that every girl had some cut off jeans, a pair of penny loafers and white Levis.     It became obvious to me that if I didn't have those things I would stick out like a sore thumb among my peers.     I set up a howl like you would not believe until I got a few of the necessary items to make me fit in with the new school mates I would soon be meeting.   

Once I got those things, I thought I had arrived.    There is a photograph of me somewhere (hopefully it's lost to the ages) when we had just come back home after a 3 week trip through Mexico.   I am standing by our 1960 station wagon, posing like I was a model for Seventeen Magazine---my fashion Bible at the time.    I have on wrap around sunglasses, cut off shorts and penny loafers with crew socks.   I think I might even have my wrist slightly bent, casually showing my disdain for the whole affair.    Oh, yeah, I was cool and I knew it.   

And that memory popped into my head this morning when I saw all the latest fashions and realized why my nieces and granddaughter want to dress the way they do.    It is no different for them than it was for me all those years ago.    When you're young it is all about finding out who you are, how to fit in and be confident in yourself.    It is a process that evolves over time until one day you do develop your own style, your comfort zone, your own way to be.    But it's does not stop.   The process keeps on going in our lives.

Ask me how I know this?   It's because along with the sudden realization of why the young ones do what they do, I came to understand that Larry and I are still evolving in who we are.    Retirement brings abrupt and dramatic changes to your life.    Suddenly you're not in the familiar routine any more.    There are no alarms clocks to roust you out of bed every day.     No wardrobe worries.    No traffic to navigate.    It's just you and 12 - 18 hours of freedom every day.   As I told someone shortly after we retired, "Every day is Saturday when you retire."   

We are still figuring out who we are now that we don't do the jobs we used to do.  My old life involved lots of paperwork, employee issues, conference calls and dealing with state bureaucracy over our funding.   Larry's life involved a lot of physical labor, along with a hefty dose of electronic record keeping and making sure everything he did was done by the rules and within his own exacting standards.    Neither of us has to worry about any of that any more.     So where do we go from here?     Am I a writer, an artist?  A better cook?    Is he a carpenter?   A story teller and entertainer to his grandchildren?    Just who we are and what we'll be is developing as we go along.    The trick is to get comfortable with the process and figure out what it is that will signal we have arrived at our new persona.    I don't think I'll be wearing wrap around shades any time soon, but I sure do hope I meet back up with that girl who thought she had it all posing in her cut-offs and penny loafers.   

Granny 's Apron Reminds Me of Her Life and Love

The fabric is simple cotton with a pattern from a by-gone era.    The craftsmanship won't win any ribbons at the County Fair.    Just a quick glance tells me that this apron is more about function and utility.   There is a nod at frivolousness, however, because of the red rick rack sewn around the edges and on the pocket.    I know the rick rack was added for fun more than fashion and it was probably what she had on hand, definitely not purchased to match what she was making.  




I am describing an apron that belonged to one of my Grandmothers.    No one ever told me exactly which one, but if I were to guess I'd say it belonged to Granny Bessie, my mother's mother.    Both of my Grannies wore aprons---and neither would have dared enter their kitchen without one.    But for some reason, when I see this one, I think of Granny Bessie.  



Granny's apron











Rick Rack added for fun and a little decoration



Bessie Pearl Gardner Caruthers:  born in 1892, died in 1965.    She was a part of my life and I have memories of her but many of the stories told to me by my mother occurred long before I was born but are forever etched in my mind.     Granny Bessie was, by all accounts, a saint of a woman.    She was trained to play classical piano and used her talents in her church, as well as at the local theater when silent movies were all the rage and the only musical accompaniment was proved by the lady hired to do that---my Granny.  She could pound out a tune on her old upright piano that had everyone singing and bringing down the house in the name of old time religion, too.   

 Her life was filled with trials and tribulations that I can hardly  imagine enduring and she did it all with a smile and an unimaginable humility.    She had six children and lost two of them when they were still very young children.    My mother's twin sister died at the age of three from complications due to pneumonia and probably whooping cough.    Later a son, Richard, died when he was six or seven from burns received when he was playing cowboys and Indians around a small campfire and accidentally caught his chaps on fire.   He lived a short while, but in those days a burn could take away life in a few hours and that is what happened to Richard.    

In a freak accident that happened when Granny rocked off the porch while holding her infant son, Freddie, he sustained a massive head injury that impaired his ability to learn, control his temper and later brought on serious grand mal seizures that lasted throughout most of his 45 years of life.     Granny, of course, blamed herself for that and had to live with the after effects until her life came to an end in 1965.    That is a lot of years to suffer and grieve for something that just "happened".    She was no more to blame for it than any other horrendous thing that occurs in a life, but blame and shame are not easy to put behind you.    So she suffered, mostly in silence because of  this great tragedy that was probably the centerpiece of her life story.     

If having these terrible things happen to your children were not enough for one woman to endure, she also had to care for Grandpa after he had a tragic accidental electrocution in 1919 while working for the phone company and was knocked off of a pole, breaking nearly every bone in his body.     To say his life was never the same is probably an understatement of epic proportions.     He never walked or acted the same again.  He used a variety of methods to deal with his pain, not all of which were helpful or good for him.    The hospital where he was kept for 180 or more days didn't help in this matter by giving him morphine for a very long time to help control his horrendous pain.     But they knew a whole lot less about addiction in those days than they do now, I guess.    

So my Granny Bessie had a life filled with sorrow and pain and still managed to remain a God fearing woman who held fast to her faith and never once asked anyone to pity her.    And seeing that apron reminded me of the things I remember best about her.

Granny's favorite spot in the house would have to be her kitchen.   It was a big room with a worn, linoleum floor, massive white stove and a big square table that sat in the middle of the room.     It was painted a kind of sage green that I suspect could be credited to something Grandpa did in an attempt to spruce the thing up.    It had huge legs on it and tiny wheels so you could move it around pretty easily.    I don't remember accurately, but I imagine that all the chairs that sat around it were not from the same set.     Granny had shabby chic long before it became fashionable!   

The sink in her kitchen was a big, white porcelain sink, that would hold a lot of dishes, pots and pans, which was handy when company came to her house.     Granny often spent hours in the kitchen preparing food when we came to visit and the kitchen would be filled with a variety of smells to entice even the most finicky eater.    She had a large Nesco Roaster where she cooked hams, stuffing for a turkey and sometimes humongous vats of spaghetti.     One speciality that she made and taught my mother how to make was her famous ravioli.     The pasta was made from scratch with flour, eggs and a little water.   She rolled the dough out on that big, green table and would cut tiny squares that were filled with her own homemade filling. Granny never knew anything about Ragu, Prego or Classico sauces but made a most delicious and rich meat sauce that simmered on the stove top and filled the whole house with the most delightful smells of tomatoes, garlic and spices.   The ravioli filling "secret" ingredient was actually calf brains, but you could seldom get her to admit that.   The only reason I know this is because my mother finally told me after I was an adult and was curious how to make the famous family recipe for ravioli.    She wisely kept it from me when I was a kid and a finicky eater, too.   

I guess if I had have one memory that stands out about Granny's cooking was one of the simplest and least heralded thing she made and that was hominy grits.     Breakfast at her house always meant a huge pot of grits bubbling and splattering on the back burner of her stove.    Even if she prepared other things for breakfast, a pot of the long cooking variety of grits was mandatory.   She woke up before the rest of us to start the grits so they would be done by the time we woke up.   She used a type of grits product seldom found these days unless you go way out in the country and find someone who will grind the corn and leave it pretty coarse and---well, gritty.     It is meant to be cooked for no less than 45 minutes and is even better if you let it simmer for an hour or more.    Oh, and a generous amount of butter and salt turns this often maligned cereal into something fit for the gods.     Granny's grits, to me, meant love and unconditional acceptance and were the ultimate comfort food.   

So when I see that apron, all those memories come flooding back to me.     I seldom saw her without an apron to protect whatever she happened to be wearing.     In fact, I dare say, she wore an apron every day of her life, except perhaps when she was going to church or to ride the train to come see us.     

Somewhere along the line, aprons more or less fell out of fashion and we no longer felt the need to make them out of scraps in our sewing basket.   Who has one of those any more?  I made a red checked gingham apron in the 7th grade, but probably never wore it more than a few times to show it off.   So aprons are not exactly required equipment in the kitchen these days.   Well, at least until recently when my seven year old grand daughter, Luci, began showing an interest in learning how to cook.     A couple of years ago she was watching her mom prepare a meal and decided she needed to learn how to cut, chop and stir all those wonderful ingredients that ultimately made their way to the dining room table.    And her mom wisely has allowed her to get involved in the kitchen and is giving her lessons in the proper way to use a knife, safety around the hot stove and what things go together to make a tasty meal or snack.     To her credit, April has also included her sons in these lessons so that one day when they are on their own, they, too, will have a clue how to boil water and make a meal without picking up the phone.   

I recently washed Granny's apron and hung it to dry.    I will carefully fold it and put it somewhere safe so that when Luci is old enough I can give it to her.     I will tell her about her (Great-great) Granny Bessie and what an amazing lady she was and how her life was so difficult but somehow she endured and left a legacy for the ones who followed her.     She loved her family and showed us all how glad she was that we were there with every spoonful of spaghetti or grits, lovingly placed upon those plates at each and every meal we shared with her.     I hope that the spirit that kept her going and gave her the strength to endure with dignity and grace was passed along to me and to little Luci, too.

Happy Trails,

Marcia

What We've Been Doing Since I Last Posted

A lot of time has passed since my last post.    I guess time flies by when you're having fun....or even when you're not having any fun.    In March we spent a fabulous week in Navarre Beach with family at a beach house and were so lucky to have near perfect weather, good company, more than a little bit of great food and plenty of time to make memories and strengthen our bonds as a family.    Then early in April, we spent a long weekend in Hurley, Mississippi with Larry's family.    His three sisters were there, his Mom and Jack, nephews Charles and Sam and Carlie, Charles' five year old daughter.    We played Phase 10, cooked huge vats of food and were grateful for the chance to see each other again.    Larry and Jack took off for a quick camping/fishing trip to Waynesboro, Mississippi.   They slept in Jack's van and pretended to be men of the backwoods for a while!  It was fun and even though they didn't catch a mess of fish, still thought it was worth the time and trouble.  

Larry and I had dental check ups a couple of weeks ago and I got a clean bill of oral health, but poor Larry had to go back for a filling or two and to get his new "crown" installed.    Don't you love it when those little health issues somehow snowball into an expensive and time consuming solution?   It started with a broken tooth while we were at Navarre Beach and ended with the placement of a porcelain cap pushed onto the remains of his poor broken tooth.   Thank goodness for dental insurance that reduced our obligation from $1500 to about $500!   

At some point during this time frame I came across an idea on Pinterest that I thought sounded pretty neat.    If you have not discovered Pinterest, please beware that it's pure evil and will suck you into a black vortex from which you may find it hard to emerge.   Well, maybe it's not THAT bad, but it's pretty close.   People have been known to click on Pinterest intending to search for a new way to cook chicken for supper and only escaped its clutches with the aid of several family members holding on to all four limbs pulling with all their might.     It's a powerful addiction!     But I digress......

I was looking for something to cook for dinner and, like most people who enter its domain, got quickly distracted by a pretty picture or interesting idea.  This particular thing is so simple, so stunningly easy, I guess that's why I never thought of it and never saw it anywhere else.   It is the crazy idea of taking the leftovers of a stalk of celery, placing it in a shallow bowl of water for a few days to sprout and grow roots before placing the whole thing in a pot of dirt to grow another whole celery plant.      It just so happened that I had two almost used up celery stalks and figured,
 "What the heck?   What have I got to lose?"    

So I took a knife and cut the remaining stalks off of the whole thing, making it straight across the top, leaving about an inch and a half or 2 inches of the stalk below.    I found a small, shallow dish and put the celery in it, placed the whole thing on a shelf over my kitchen sink and stood back waiting for  the action to start.    Believe it or not, within a couple of days, I saw some tiny shoots growing out of the middle of the celery.   Within 4 or 5 five days, there were whole leaves nudging their way upward and out of the center of the plant!   Imagine my surprise when the leaves appeared to grow overnight by 1/4 to 1/2 inch.   

Two celery plants with sprouts and tiny roots,
ready to be planted in a pot outside.


So that's where things are now.   Larry plans to put the plants into a flower pot today or tomorrow and I'll give an update on their progress.     I was stunned to see how much those leaves grew in one week.    And saying this is easy is an understatement for this simple way to get more plants into your garden at almost no extra cost and very little effort.    The main difference between this idea is that before I read about growing celery this way,  I would have tossed the remains of that celery into the garbage or the compost pile.   Really, all I did was find a way to give them a drink of water for a few days and stand back in amazement when they actually started growing!   

And that has been the story of our lives for the past few weeks.    I promise to do a real blog entry on our week at Navarre Beach.    We had so much fun and took a zillion and one photos to document every golden moment.    I'll post some of those, too.   Greg took amazing pictures of us at sunset that gave all of us a lovely, rosy glow.    We're so lucky to have his professional skills (and high end camera) to capture our images at the most flattering time of day.      

As we slide our way toward summer and enjoy the above average temperatures of spring, we will be planning a camping trip with the kids, painting the living room---right after I make up my mind what color to use----and I will be meandering around on Pinterest some more.    Even today I will be making three things that I found there.....Dr. Pepper Chicken, Kale with Pine Nuts and Raisins plus Tomatoes with Feta and Basil Oil.    Reports on all of these things will be forthcoming, I promise!  Comments on what you think about all of this are welcome.   :))

Happy Trails,

Marcia