That was the first question Daddy asked every person who entered his house, should they be a friend, relative, or Kirby Vacuum Cleaner Salesman who happened to be hopelessly lost on the back roads of rural Bossier Parish. Raised during The Great Depression, always hungry, he frequently did a day’s work for no more than food. He swore if he ever got grown, no one would ever leave his house hungry. “Are you hungry? Kathleen will fix you something to eat!” The burden of his good intentions fell on my mother, who possessed no Aladdin’s lamp to fulfill his goal. I always wondered why she didn’t kill him. It was amazing how many people accepted his offer of food, though it was no where near mealtime. With five children and a very tight budget, there was very little left at the end of meals. Our refrigerator was not filled with hams, fruit, cheese, nor were there chips, loaves of bread, or desserts for snacking. Every meal was cooked from scratch, heavy on beans, potatoes, gravy, chicken, cornbread, and biscuits. Sometimes there was a biscuit or two left after meals, or a spoonful of beans or gravy, but little else. Should there be dessert, it was carefully divided and parceled among us, the last couple of portions saved for Daddy’s lunch. God help the foolish child who got into what was intended for Daddy’s lunch.
Daddy had a brother who often loaded up his family and headed our way at three o’clock Friday afternoon, surprising us around two in the morning with his large, starving family to be fed and bedded. Mother had to make biscuits, gravy, and eggs, if the hens were laying, find beds for everyone, to back to bed, knowing the next day, she be struggling to find food for another large family all weekend. Had my uncle not found us at home, he’d have driven on to his other brother’s house, where we’d likely have been. It would have never crossed his mind to call or write! He may have only decided to visit on the spur of the moment, anyway.
Nutsrok 
Amazing story. Your mum endured a lot. It’s great to her that you wrote a book about her. She deserved a tribute.
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She’s had a lot of time on her own. She’s 87. She’s been widowed since she was 54. When someone asks her why she never got married again, she always says, “There’s really only one thing wrong with men, their annoying habit of breathing in and breathing out!”
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You might enjoy reading more about my mother. https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/2015/02/04/vagina-boobs-and-poop-part-12/
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Brilliant! Just read the first one. Will go back for more using my computer as I cannot comment from the phone. Your mum is great.
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This is basis for my next book
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It’s going to be an excellent book. Your mother is an inspiration.
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Thanks. I think so!
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I’ve always lived by never turning away a hungry person, but that’s not the same as offering to cook, or heaven forbid having someone else do it! :/
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Daddy thought mother and us kids were resources.
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So I read.
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My dad used to bring guys home with him from work, usually just to share a beer, but he often/always invited them to stay for dinner. It frustrated my mom, and forced us to share the limited foods we had. I resented it after a while, but then again, I was a horribly picky eater, and didn’t want much anyway. ☺
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Will post one tomorrow about a smelly guy who worked for my dad.
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Thanks for the warning. I’ll be holding my nose.
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It’s a good one.
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Yes, I’m sure. All your stories are good!
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Hope so.
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You’re wasting your time hoping because it’s already goooooood!
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Thank yo.
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Ew ???
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But a good story!
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No doubt .
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Back then people never called to announce a visit. My relatives all lived in a small area so no one stayed overnight but stopping by mid afternoon wasn’t uncommon and my Mom always came up with something. Usually not a meal though, more like cake, pastries or cookies.
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Ours were often at least an hour away, sometimes more.
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It has always been a ‘fear’ of mine that visitors should leave my house hungry. I would rather there be left overs (which will be used for us in something) than empty plates with nothing to replenish them with.
If someone comes calling, there is always an offer of tea or coffee, biscuits or cake if I have it, and if they are friends/relatives who have come a long way, there will be an offer of a meal and bed for the night. Of course now we’re on a boat, they have to bring their own sleeping bag, but the meal, tea and coffee still stands!
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Coffee was never a problem. Food at a moment’s notice challenged Mother since we gobbled everything in site at mealtime. There might have been a biscuit, a piece of bread, usually served at breakfast, not a cookie. Not really something to offer a guest. It would compare to toast.
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Times have certainly changed haven’t they.
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Yes indeed. I wouldn’t dream of heading off t o visit without an invitation.
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I hope you’re intending to gather all these in a book. Beyond the abusive brother shoving his way willly-nilly to two troughs, you really show the role of women back then. Your poor mom. And you and any sisters (I haven’t read all your posts on family to know your whole family picture), to see that behavior day in and out.
Disgusting.
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Oh yes, one book on Mother’s memoirs with editors now. She collaborated and illustrated. Thr more in works. One bout my dad. He died in 1981. Don’t know nearly as much about him.
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That is good to hear. These stories are fascinating. I’m sure the book(s) will be a hit.
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I’m enjojoying the writing.
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I missed reading your blog!!
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I was out of town with no internet access. Thanks for missing me.
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Thanks for reading.
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