Day: August 26, 2024

Footloose and Fancy Free(Part 4)

 

Inez was good company, but didn’t worry much about germs. It kind of bothered Mother when she wiped the baby’s nose with the dish towel and then put it back in the dish pan. After that Mother told Inez not to bother with the dishes. She knew Inez was tired and needed a nap. Mother didn’t like it much when she let the twins run around without diapers, either. Inez did pick up the piles, most of the time, but left the little puddles. There were just so many of them. Mother was glad to see them go home. Inez just couldn’t keep up with all those kids.

When Inez’s Mama died, they moved into her house. I don’t think we ever saw them but about once more. The school board offered Inez her mama’s school bus route. Inez jumped at the chance, knowing she wouldn’t have Mama to depend on anymore. Bobo took the big kids fishing while Inez and the babies ran the bus route. It wasn’t too long before he got to slipping off without the kids. He’d gotten acquainted with the trashy little gal whose Daddy ran the bait stand. She was about fifteen and had giant bosoms, just like Inez had had, about six kids and eight years ago. Dazzled by all that breastiness, he took off with her, forgetting all about Inez and the kids. We never saw any of them again.

Lassie

What TV shows did you watch as a kid?

I needed Lassie. I was sure if I’d had Lassie I could tackle anything that came my way. Timmy was such a dope, always falling in a well, getting in a mine cave-in, or getting stuck high in a tree. I could clearly see the danger that he was headed for, putting Lassie to the trouble of bailing Timmy out. If she wasn’t staring down a mountain lion, or nudging a branch toward Timmy stuck in quicksand, she’d race home in record time to bring back help. Can you imagine what she’d have accomplished had she been blessed with vocal cords and opposable thumbs?

Crockpot Apple Butter

I learned to make the easiest apple butter ever. I didn’t even peel my apples, just cored and sectioned them. I was gifted 20 lbs of apples. They went straight into apple butter. 1 lb apples yields about a pint of apple butter. I will use this recipe for pumpkin, peach,pear or whatever produce I come by. Taste as you cook. You may add or decrease sugar or spices to your taste.

5 lbs apples (fills 6 qt crockpot. I heaped them up)

4 cups granulated sugar

3 tablespoons ground cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon ground ginger

Core and section apples. Top with sugar and spices. Set crockpot on medium. Cook 12 -18 hours. Blend till smooth with hand mixer. Jar in clean jars with new flats and rings. Cover with water, bring to boil and boil 10 minutes to seal. I did in pressure cooker since I made a lot. Excellent on hot biscuits. This makes an excellent gift!

This is about half my apple butter. The rest is still cooking. The house smells wonderful!

Mixed Nuts Part 1

imageThis is a repost of one of my favorite posts about my eccentric family. I posted it when my blog was new, so many of my readers haven’t seen it.  Enjoy!  If you’ve read it, please be patient.

When you are dealing with family, it clarifies things to have a scale. You don’t have to waste time analyzing people when you have a ready reference. This one works pretty well for my family.

1.Has a monogrammed straight jacket and standing reservation on mental ward.

2.Family is likely to move away without leaving forwarding address. Has jail time in the past or the future

3.People say, “Oh, crap. Here comes Johnny.”

4.Person can  go either way. Gets by on a good day. Never has been arrested. Can be lots of fun or a real mess. Relatives usually will invite in for coffee. Likely to have hormone-induced behavior.

5.Regular guy. Holds down a job. Mostly takes care of business. Probably not a serial marrier. Attends church when he has to.

6.Good fellow. Almost everybody likes him or her. Volunteers for Habitat for Humanity. Manages money well enough to retire early.

7.High achiever. Business is in order. Serves on city council.

8.Looks too good to be true. What’s really going on?

9.Over-achiever. Affairs are in order. Solid citizen. Dull, dull, dull. Could end up as a 1

Instead of saying, “Uncle Henry’s a pretty good guy, but sometimes he goes off the deep end, you could say, ‘He’s a usually about a 6 but he was a little 4-ish after Aunt Lou took his new truck and ran off with his brother’.” Or…

“Why in the world did Betty marry him? He was a jerk to her when she was married to his daddy.”

“Well, you know she’s a 5.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.” Or…

“You set the house on fire trying to dry your underwear in the oven?? What in the hell were you thinking?? And you call yourself a 6?”

“Look, you know darn well I’m a 6. It just seemed like a good idea. Appliances should be multifunctional. I’ve seen you pull a 2 lot of times and never threw it up to you. It could happen to anyone.” Or…

“You forgot and put the turnip greens through the spin cycle and now the washing machine drain is stopped up! I’m not even going to ask you what turnip greens were doing in the washing machine! You’re a 2 if I ever saw one. Your mama and sisters are 2′s, too!! Did you put the beans in the dishwasher, too, while you were at it?”

“No, I’m not an idiot. You cook beans on the stove. I put my rolls in the dishwasher to rise.”

Our family reunions are an eclectic mix of mostly 5′s who can tip into categories 4 and 6 when pressed.  Most are fairly regular folks, seasoned with a picante’ dash of street-corner preachers, nude airport racers, and folks who are just interesting in general. We have a couple of 7′s thrown in, reminders of what we could do if we tried. A person’s position on the social ladder is likely to be greatly influenced by his company or partner. For instance, if a submissive #5 marries a dominant #7, it is likely he or she will benefit. If the lower number Is dominant, not so much.

I was comfortable growing up in this eccentric milieu in the 1950’s. While I gave lip service to my parents’ goal of strict respectability, I enjoyed a ringside seat to periodic lunacy. It also justified my lapses. It ran it the family! And no matter how disappointed my parents might be when I messed up, at least I hadn’t been caught naked in traffic yet.

When considering parenthood, most people entertain hormone-tinged delusions, imagining their children as cute, well-behaved, athletic, and smart. We gaze fondly at our partners imagining a baby with his blue eyes, her sweet smile when’s we should have looked a little closer at Grandpa’s buck teeth or Grandma’s frizzy hair. Even better, this baby is just as likely to inherit genes from a great-great grandpa, the horse thief, as from Grandpa John, the Pulitzer Prize Winner. The baby might look a lot more like Aunt Fanny, the lady wrestler, than its pretty mama. A better plan would probably be to put all babies in a lottery at birth, so parents could credit their lumps to bad luck and the joys to good parenting for the next twenty-one years. The kids would definitely appreciate it.

(to be continued)

Big Party

One day a city stockbroker decides he has just had too much. Too much stress, too much of the big city, too much everything. So he quits him job, gives up his apartment and rents out a Cabin in the middle of the wilderness. For six months he lives in tranquillity and isolation. Then, one day, there is a knock at the door.

He opens the door to see this huge lumberjack with a giant beard shuffling from foot to foot nervously. Eventually the big man speaks:

“I’m yer neighbour from the cabin about a mile down the road. Anyhow, I’m having a party on Saturday and I wondered if you’d like to come.”

The guy pauses for a second and then replies: “You know what, that would be great. It is about time I got out and it would be nice to meet some new people. I’d love to come.”

“Right,” says the lumberjack, looking a little relieved. “I’ll see you about eight o’clock on Saturday then.” And then he turns to leave.

But he pauses for a second and then turns back: “I should probably warn you, there is gonna be some pretty heavy drinking.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s OK. I used to drink quite a bit myself back in the city, so I think I’ll be alright with a bit of hard liquor.”

“Right then,” says the big man. “Well, eight o’clock then.”

But as he turns to go he pauses again and turns back: “Yeah, I should also mention: most likely there will also be a bit of fighting before the evening finishes.”

“Uh, well, OK,” the guy replies. “I mean, I get on pretty well with most people so I don’t see that being a problem. But if it gets rough, then I am sure I can take care of myself.”

“Right then,” says the big man. “See you at eight o’clock then.”

But once again he pauses and turns back, scratching his beard: “So I probably also need to tell you: there might be some pretty wild sex.”

The guy perks up a bit at that. “Well, you know, we are all consenting adults. And after all this time out here alone, I don’t think I’d have any problem with some intimate company if that’s what happens.”

“OK then,” says the man. “Well, see you Saturday.” And with that he turns and starts to stroll away.

“Oh wait, just one question,” says the guy. “What should I wear?”

The lumberjack pauses to think, and scratches his beard again. “I don’t suppose it really matters much. I just gonna be you and me.”