dinner

Lou and Lynn Part 7 Behind the Scenes of a Family Meal: A Story of Help and Harmony

”Lynn, I need you and Lou to watch Connie while I make the cornbread and put the chicken on to fry. I want to get it done before the baby wakes up. Maybe Lou can help and y’all can get the table set. Don’t forget to wash your hands. Around here, everybody has to pitch in or we won’t get supper till midnight. When Daddy gets home we’ll have to talk about your grandma, Lou.”


“Yes Ma’am” said Lynn. She balanced Connie on one hip while she washed her hands. “Come on , Lou. Wash up.”

Lou was surprised to be put to work. Mom wouldn’t have done that but she did want to eat. Lynn handed out mismatched plates and pointed out the silverware drawer. If you’ll put a plate and forks and spoons out, I’ll get glasses. Then we’ll take Connie in the living room to play.

Lynn set Connie in a big cardboard box in the middle of the living room floor and tossed a few toys in. The tiny girl played happily.

”Why do you have to work so much?” Lou asked. “Does it make you mad? My parents do most of the work.”

”I have to help. Since the babies came along, Mother can’t do it all. We never would get supper if she had to. I have to do dishes after supper, too. Then, I’m done. I wish Mother had gotten a dishwasher instead of another baby.” she laughed.

The aroma of the fried chicken coming from the kitchen was wonderful. Just then, then barking of the dogs announced an approaching vehicle. Lynn looked out the door. “It’s Daddy and Billy!” She called out to Mother.

”Just in time!” Mother said. “Pour the milk and help me get supper on the table, girls!” Lynn put Connie in the high chair and gave her a couple of crackers. Connie went to work on them.

Billy came bursting in the front door. “We sold all the pigs and got some goats!” He shouted, slamming the door behind him.

“Wah!” An angry wail sounded from the back of the house.

“Oh no! You woke the baby. Now I won’t get to eat. How many times do I have to tell you not to slam that door!” Mother tossed her dish towel on the counter and got the baby. “Lynn, do you want to finish getting supper on the table or take care of the baby?”

“I’ll get supper on the table. Come on Lou.” They loaded the table with a platter of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, beans, and cornbread. The last touch was a dish of butter. It smelled wonderful!

Daddy came in the back door. “Good, supper’s ready. I’m starving! I’m going to wash up. Everybody get to the table.” Everybody took a place. “Billy, did you wash your hands?”

”Yessir.” said Billy, holding up wet hands.

”Well, dry them on your napkin and say Grace”

Everyone bowed their heads as Billy prayed.
“God is great.

God is good.

Let us thank him for this food.
Amen. Can I have a drumstick?”

”Amen!” said Daddy. “Son, didn’t you get a little ahead of yourself?”

”Yessir.” said Billy, passing his plate. Daddy took the baby while Mother served plates.

Daddy turned to Lynn. “Lynn. Who is your friend?”

”Daddy, this is Lou. She was riding with her grandma when they got caught by a storm. Her grandma disappeared. We went up to talk to Miss Betsy. She said she’d pass the word to the neighbors but we haven’t heard a peep.” Lynn had covered the story.

”That’s quite a story. There must be more to it.” He turned to Lou. “Can you tell us anything else? People don’t just disappear. Exactly what happened?”He sounded stern.

Lou felt like she’d done something wrong. “There’s nothing else to tell. One minute she was there. The next she wasn’t”

”I don’t know about that.” Daddy said. “ Everybody eat while your food is hot. We’ll talk about this more after supper.

To be continued:



Uncle Albutt Part 5

Quite often, our family and friends would gather for a late evening meal.  While the kids ran wild in the dusk and on into the darkness, the women prepared a filling meal of beef stew or chili and cornbread.  It would be near bedtime by the time they called us in, hysterical  with chasing each other in and out of the darkness.  Of course we’d been warned against running in the dark, but staying in range of the lights was for sissies.  I’d be in a delicious frenzy of terror till I stepped back into the light, where all horrors vanished.   They would be so many kids we’d be settled on the floor with our supper in a pie or cake pan.  This was before budgets stretched to include paper plates.  It was an honor to sit on the floor with the big kids.  Babies and toddlers sat at the tables where their mamas could keep a grip on them.  Two or three dinners were always dumped on the floor and there was squalling a’plenty as mamas cleaned up the mess and resettled the messy kids.  The kids finished in short order and tore back outdoors while the adults took their turn at the

After the meal, it wasn’t unusual for the men to load up their guns, flashlights, thermoses of coffee, and the dogs for a night of hunting, leaving the women and children to visit.  Mamas gave their kids a cursory wipedown with a washcloth before bed, since it wouldn’t have been possible to bathe that many children and settled them on pallets on the floor, sometimes as many as six to the bed.  Mamas rocked the knee babies and lap babies to sleep before putting them on a bed flanked by pillows once the settling down started, the women started their stories.  I loved these nights, especially if Mawmaw was there.  She believed in ghosts and could make our blood run cold.  Mother worried about nightmares, but lacked the courage to shush her mother-in-law, for which I was grateful.  I NEEDED those stories. Mawmaw thrilled us with tales of babies buried alive, girls who died of broken hearts when their dead sweethearts appeared to them, and big black ghost dog, and ball lightning rolling through the house. The kids didn’t dare move off the pallet, they were so terrified. Fatigued by their play, finally they drifted off to sleep, one by one.

As the women talked, they thought they heard an intruder trying to get in the front door. Someone else scurried to check the back door, unsure if it was locked.  .  Had there been an intruder, he’d have had a horrible shock breaking in on half a dozen  terrified women and a gaggle of children.  Meanwhile Mother hurried to the door.  Thinking she’d scare him away with a bluff, she called out.  “I’ve got a gun.  I’m gonna shoot through the door!”

Aunt Jewel stood right behind her.  Obviously terrified, she shouted out.  “Well, don’t just stand there!  Go git your gun.  You ain’t got no gun!”  Fortunately, there was no intruder, or he thought he’d better not break in, since nothing happened.

 

Uncle Albutt Part 5

Quite often, our family and friends would gather for a late evening meal.  While the kids ran wild in the dusk and on into the darkness, the women prepared a filling meal of beef stew or chili and cornbread.  It would be near bedtime by the time they called us in, hysterical  with chasing each other in and out of the darkness.  Of course we’d been warned against running in the dark, but staying in range of the lights was for sissies.  I’d be in a delicious frenzy of terror till I stepped back into the light, where all horrors vanished.   They would be so many kids we’d be settled on the floor with our supper in a pie or cake pan.  This was before budgets stretched to include paper plates.  It was an honor to sit on the floor with the big kids.  Babies and toddlers sat at the tables where their mamas could keep a grip on them.  Two or three dinners were always dumped on the floor and there was squalling a’plenty as mamas cleaned up the mess and resettled the messy kids.  The kids finished in short order and tore back outdoors while the adults took their turn at the

After the meal, it wasn’t unusual for the men to load up their guns, flashlights, thermoses of coffee, and the dogs for a night of hunting, leaving the women and children to visit.  Mamas gave their kids a cursory wipedown with a washcloth before bed, since it wouldn’t have been possible to bathe that many children and settled them on pallets on the floor, sometimes as many as six to the bed.  Mamas rocked the knee babies and lap babies to sleep before putting them on a bed flanked by pillows once the settling down started, the women started their stories.  I loved these nights, especially if Mawmaw was there.  She believed in ghosts and could make our blood run cold.  Mother worried about nightmares, but lacked the courage to shush her mother-in-law, for which I was grateful.  I NEEDED those stories. Mawmaw thrilled us with tales of babies buried alive, girls who died of broken hearts when their dead sweethearts appeared to them, and big black ghost dog, and ball lightning rolling through the house. The kids didn’t dare move off the pallet, they were so terrified. Fatigued by their play, finally they drifted off to sleep, one by one.

As the women talked, they thought they heard an intruder trying to get in the front door. Someone else scurried to check the back door, unsure if it was locked.  .  Had there been an intruder, he’d have had a horrible shock breaking in on half a dozen  terrified women and a gaggle of children.  Meanwhile Mother hurried to the door.  Thinking she’d scare him away with a bluff, she called out.  “I’ve got a gun.  I’m gonna shoot through the door!”

Aunt Jewel stood right behind her.  Obviously terrified, she shouted out.  “Well, don’t just stand there!  Go git your gun.  You ain’t got no gun!”  Fortunately, there was no intruder, or he thought he’d better not break in, since nothing happened.