Mother frequently made oatmeal for breakfast. It was horrible, ranging from distasteful to repulsive. I’d have just as soon had a cow patty. She was a busy woman, easily distracted by the demands of five kids, so quite often, she burned it. That didn’t add to its appeal. Not only that, she was inconsistent in salting, sometimes over-salting, sometimes under. It was common for her to whomp up a second batch in the same unwashed pan she’d burned Daddy’s pap in earlier that morning, which didn’t add to its appeal. As a kid, I couldn’t distinguish the problem. I just knew it was awful and dreaded its appearance on the breakfast table.
Introduced to oatmeal before my first memory, I found it a tasteless paste at best. There were no golden globes of butter, raisins, cinnamon, caramelized brown sugar, puddles of maple syrup, nor sides of crisp bacon and dainty triangles of toast, for us. I was enraptured when introduced to oatmeal properly prepared and served. It was a totally different beast.
Should she be judged on her oatmeal alone, Mother definitely will not get into heaven.

My Aunt made me eat oatmeal when I was visiting. I couldn’t stand it. Took me years to eat it again, but I eat flavored ones now😁
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Now you can choose. Your’s is to your taste. It makes a difference. Mother had little to work with and just wanted us to eat and get on bus. She had more than our taste in oatmeal to worry about.
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I’m here to tell you those early instant mix packets were probably even worse ~ minus any actual solids, sickly sweet, sometimes actually purple…
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Never tried them. Looked awful!
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Looks can deceive. “Awful” doesn’t even begin to describe them.
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What you call oatmeal we call porridge and it’s what I had for breakie this morning, I like it sweet with lots of sugar, I think I have always like it but it makes a difference if the one preparing it is a good cook
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Butter, a bit of salt and some nuts or fruit help!
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Isn’t that a sure sign of a good mother??
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I hope. I’m certainly there.
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I didn’t like oatmeal when I was a child, but I like it now. I’ll bet I complained bitterly. Wish I could apologize to Mom now.
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I expect your kids paid you back, just like mine did. I didn’t do much right.
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I’ve got you beat. Apparently I didn’t do anything right at all.
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One of my kids has made that clear!
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Dear me. No wonder I cotton so well to your humor (which has already brightened up for me duller days than one would consider appropriate anywhere in the First World)… We’re both perfectly awful people! I must say you don’t fit the bill very well, with your crocheted bags. Consider appliqueing an uzzie, developing a degenerate slouch and a hangdog expression, and donning a fetching leather beanie.
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I could do that. Even though I came of age in the turbulent 60’s, I never tried any drugs or got into violence. I went the peaceful protest route and tried to change things for individuals, not big steps for society. I am a low key person.
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Learning basic skills was a part of our life. We had to make do with what was available. I can foods, dry foods, make pickles, crochet, patch, I learned to remake and tailor new clothes from old. At home we milked a cow. I loathed that job. I helped butcher cows, pigs, and poultry, more nasty jobs. Of course, we gardened. At our house, them that don’t work don’t eat. I was so glad to get off the farm. I can do the slouch and the look, though.
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Oh, sorry ~ I’m in a city right now, so, was thinking in those terms ~ more street sleeze than hillbilly twang. (Of the two I always preferred the hillbilly twang.)
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Oatmeal was never one of my favorites, that is, until I discovered adding nuts, raisins, and of course a little brown sugar with some apples. Still can’t bring myself to the consistency of cream of wheat.
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I’m sure she did quite well on other tasks. Speaking of oatmeal, I prepare mine at night in a bowl topped with raisins, walnuts and milk. It goes in the refrigerator overnight to soak and soften then I’ll add some fruit in the morning, blueberries and bananas. I enjoyed a bowl this morning and it was delicious, as usual.
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It sounds good. My son likes to eat his raw.
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Her biscuits, fried chicken, chicken and dumplings, beef stew, cornbread, fried potatoes, pinto beans, and pound cake were unbeatable. Maybe I’d better write about that!
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Through fall and winter oatmeal is my breakfast meal of choice. But it put some lovely dried fruit in it, which helps. Dried cranberries, blueberries, or strawberries, for a little variety. Yum!
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Ok. Now I’m hungry and I already had toast and coffee.
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We didn’t have oatmeal, it was farina which is similar but a different grain. I liked it but my mom was a great cook even with the simple things.
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Mother did well on things she liked. Her oatmeal, rice, and pancakes were abysmal. I think she mostly cooked oatmeal and pancakes when the cupboard was bare. Mornings were rough on her.
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That will do it!
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You’re poor mother!! The backbone to finding missing socks, whipping up an extra plate for the friend you forgot to tell her was coming home from school with you, and the often never paid taxi driver!
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Of course, I never appreciated any of that! I just hated her oatmeal and never failed to tell her.
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LOL
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