CORNBREAD AND KETCHUP
A slow squeak, a gentle bang
that was the screened back door.
The hinges needed some oil
and the flies were quick to flit in.
But that didn't matter because
fresh air came in through those tiny little squares
and it smelled so good.
We didn't have "Country Flowers" spray or "Ocean Breeze"
No need--
We had love
and my Mama standing with that screen door held open
Saying,
"Come in this house!"
Then I was home.
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I wrote this in 2003 with the memory of my home so vivid I could feel as if I were really there. We lived in a little two bedroom, one and a half bath on 2 1/2 acres a short way out of
town but rural enough to say we lived in the country. We had well water which was brought to us from a cistern fed by a tall windmill. In the few times I was upset during my young life there, I would climb up near the windmill blades and contemplate my existence. Other times I jusst climbed up there to view the scenery.
At some point not long after we moved into that house, the water began to taste strange so Daddy climbed up to the cistern to see what was wrong. He found that there was no cover over the tank so we were drinking water that had dead birds, leaves and a few frogs floating in it! Of course he had it drained, cleaned and capped. I 'm pretty sure that's why I have such an immunity to germs. Wonder how the frogs got up there? Well, the old timers used to describe a heavy rain as being a "frog strangler"
Mother's mother lived with us and I called her Gramby. Her name was Nellie Aurelia and she was wonderful. She taught me how to churn butter which was made from the milk we got from our one Jersey cow. I would get tired of turning the churn handle one way and tried to turn it backwards but she she told me that would make the butter go back to milk. We would then put the butter onto a little wooden box to form it into a cube of delicious homemade butter which would then go into the slabs of cornbread she taught me how to make. Unlike the newlywed who asked the grocery clerk where she could find "scratch" cornbread, I learned how to make it at an early age.
In fact, just about all the food we made was from "scratch". Of course, this was "back in the day" when the grocery stores didn't have all the prepared food we have now, plus the fact that many of the farmers paid their bill from Daddy's feed store in kind. We had fresh vegetables, sides of beef, pork loins and of course the eggs from our hens. We also had fried chicken a lot because we had our own roosters. (FYI:hens don't make for good fried chicken)
I put the word "ketchup" in the title of this piece because Daddy put ketchup on almost any kind if food except chicken and ice cream. Have you ever seen what a soft fried egg looks like with ketchup on it? And yes, he put ketchup on that wonderful cornbread! Actually that tastes pretty good.
That house had no air-conditioning or central heat so it was fans and open windows or heat from the one fireplace. Before they got butane heaters Mama would wrap two heated bricks that had been heated in front of the fireplace and place them at my feet when I was finally in my feather bed. And yes, it was a feather bed which can get a bit uncomfortable when the pointy end of the feather sticks through the covering! Anyway, I didn't worry about that much because it was warm and the security of the whole room was ever so comforting.
I'm getting too sentimental now so I have to stop. I'm pretty sure I have more stories of my youth to share and I hope my readers don't mind. I may even repeat myself from time to time. Old age does that to a person.
that was the screened back door.
The hinges needed some oil
and the flies were quick to flit in.
But that didn't matter because
fresh air came in through those tiny little squares
and it smelled so good.
We didn't have "Country Flowers" spray or "Ocean Breeze"
No need--
We had love
and my Mama standing with that screen door held open
Saying,
"Come in this house!"
Then I was home.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I wrote this in 2003 with the memory of my home so vivid I could feel as if I were really there. We lived in a little two bedroom, one and a half bath on 2 1/2 acres a short way out of
town but rural enough to say we lived in the country. We had well water which was brought to us from a cistern fed by a tall windmill. In the few times I was upset during my young life there, I would climb up near the windmill blades and contemplate my existence. Other times I jusst climbed up there to view the scenery.
At some point not long after we moved into that house, the water began to taste strange so Daddy climbed up to the cistern to see what was wrong. He found that there was no cover over the tank so we were drinking water that had dead birds, leaves and a few frogs floating in it! Of course he had it drained, cleaned and capped. I 'm pretty sure that's why I have such an immunity to germs. Wonder how the frogs got up there? Well, the old timers used to describe a heavy rain as being a "frog strangler"
Mother's mother lived with us and I called her Gramby. Her name was Nellie Aurelia and she was wonderful. She taught me how to churn butter which was made from the milk we got from our one Jersey cow. I would get tired of turning the churn handle one way and tried to turn it backwards but she she told me that would make the butter go back to milk. We would then put the butter onto a little wooden box to form it into a cube of delicious homemade butter which would then go into the slabs of cornbread she taught me how to make. Unlike the newlywed who asked the grocery clerk where she could find "scratch" cornbread, I learned how to make it at an early age.
In fact, just about all the food we made was from "scratch". Of course, this was "back in the day" when the grocery stores didn't have all the prepared food we have now, plus the fact that many of the farmers paid their bill from Daddy's feed store in kind. We had fresh vegetables, sides of beef, pork loins and of course the eggs from our hens. We also had fried chicken a lot because we had our own roosters. (FYI:hens don't make for good fried chicken)
I put the word "ketchup" in the title of this piece because Daddy put ketchup on almost any kind if food except chicken and ice cream. Have you ever seen what a soft fried egg looks like with ketchup on it? And yes, he put ketchup on that wonderful cornbread! Actually that tastes pretty good.
That house had no air-conditioning or central heat so it was fans and open windows or heat from the one fireplace. Before they got butane heaters Mama would wrap two heated bricks that had been heated in front of the fireplace and place them at my feet when I was finally in my feather bed. And yes, it was a feather bed which can get a bit uncomfortable when the pointy end of the feather sticks through the covering! Anyway, I didn't worry about that much because it was warm and the security of the whole room was ever so comforting.
I'm getting too sentimental now so I have to stop. I'm pretty sure I have more stories of my youth to share and I hope my readers don't mind. I may even repeat myself from time to time. Old age does that to a person.
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