Throwback Thursday: Girl and Geese

Here's my caption:
"Is this what Momma means when she calls me a 'silly goose?"

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Memory Monday: The Quilt

THE QUILT

Our house has become the repository of much of our family’s historical memorabilia on both mine and my husband’s sides of the family.  It all started shortly after we were married when my grandmother-in-law showed me an old quilt top (basically a one-layer piece of patch-work material) that had been made by her mother and asked me if I wanted it. 

As I looked at it with my oh-so sophisticated 20-year old eye and promptly (and of course, kindly) said, “No thank you,” my new husband quickly said, “Yes, we really do want it!”  I looked at him and let my eyes speak silently.  “What in the world are we going to do with THAT?!”

            Mawmaw (my husband’s name for his grandmother) looked at us sweetly and said, “I will take it to the senior citizens center here in town, and we will quilt it for you.” 

It wasn’t until we got it back that I truly looked at the quilt top, and even then, to my “youthful” eye, I could see that we had received not only a thing of beauty, but also the quilt held a wealth of family history.  That kind of quilt is known as a “friendship quilt”.  It was very popular in the early 1900s to exchange fabric blocks and leaf patterns with friends and family.  A woman would then make leaves from whatever material she had, sew them in the four corner of the block, embroider her name (along with her husband, if she had one) in the center of the block, and then, return the completed block. The happy friend could then sew the blocks all together and quilt it (when she had the time, which of course, she didn’t always have). 

            This brings us to how I now have a Friendship Quilt from 1934.  I know that it was from that year because my mother-in-law, who was born in 1920, sewed a block for the quilt and embroidered “Opal Sutton, age 14” on it.  Also, on that quilt are the names of my husband’s aunts, uncles, and cousins, along with “greats” and “great-greats,” many of whom I have come to know and love through the years we have been married.  This quilt top was sewn together by my husband’s great-grandmother and will be passed down to our daughter (and hopefully, to one of her children). Five (or six) generations--not a bad trip for a handmade quilt.

Throwback Thursday: Child and Toddler with Carriage

Here's my caption:
"My mom made me wear this dumb suit and all the boys at school are going to laugh at me."

What's your caption? Feel free to leave it in the Comment Section below.

Memory Monday: Mothers, Daughters, and Sex Education

My grandmother and one of her daughters

Mothers, Daughters, and Sex Education

            One of the things all mothers should deal with is in the area of sex education with their daughters.  I remember well the day that my mother and I had “the talk.” One morning when I was about eleven years old, Mother told me to come out to the barn while she milked the cows.  Sitting on her milking stool, with a bucket on the ground between her knees, my mother slowing milked the cow as she told me the “facts of life.”

Wearing my red carcoat and sitting on an upturned old bucket, I listened to her, understanding about half of what she was telling me because I was so afraid my older brother was going to come into the barn any minute and hear what she was saying (I wasn’t sure he knew about all that stuff).  Finally, she told me if I had any questions, to come and ask her.  That evening, I asked her a couple of things. She looked at me and told me not to ask any more questions.  I never did.  Looking back after many years, I understand she was probably embarrassed about the whole thing or else just didn’t know the answers to my questions.  But whatever the reason, I know she tried her best to teach me what I needed to know.

            I was fortunate when it came to teaching my daughter about the “birds and the bees”.  My daughter was four years old when my son was born, so by then we had already covered the question of where babies come from (she was always asking questions about my big tummy and she loved putting her little hands on me and feeling the baby move).  After he was born, we allowed her to be totally involved in just about everything with her little brother.  She asked questions about the differences in his body and hers when I gave him a bath, and I would answer her simply and truthfully.  I don’t ever remember having “the talk” with her, just a continual time of teaching that went on for several years without any embarrassment.

Often I think back about how my aunt said on one of our taped family interviews that her mother would never mention anything about sex to her daughters, and that she would probably roll over in her grave at the way we do things today.  Well, all I have to say is “Roll, Grandma, roll!”

Throwback Thursday: Man and Horse

Here's my caption:
"Stay still, horse, and maybe the sheriff won't see me."

What's your caption? Feel free to leave it in the Comment Section below.

Memory Monday: Stuff vs. Memories

My husband and me in 1975

STUFF VS. MEMORIES

            My husband and I love family history. Our home has become the repository for “all things family,” from genealogies, to pictures, to items related/owned by different people who came before us. As far as collecting things from our families’ pasts, my husband is an only child and grew up in the same town as his grandparents (so he got a lot of things). I am just collector (or as my daughter is prone to say, a hoarder).

            The center hall of our house is line with framed pictures of our families. Our children grew up knowing the faces of their grandparents (even though some of them didn’t live long to see their grandchildren). There are even picture of their great-grandparents and some of their great-great-grandparents.

            In our home, there are books from my father and crystal stemware from my grandparents, as well as from my mother-in-law. There is a chess set that was my father’s, that I used to teach my son, and one of his best friends in high school, how to place the game (although his best friend surpassed me in skill very quickly).  Family knick-knacks rest on shelves. In my living room is my grandmother’s rocker, and in my library sits a buffet that used to belong to my great-grandfather-in-law. One time, my husband’s great-aunt gave us the shirt her brother wore when he was shot (we don’t even know the story behind this) and a long black skirt her mother made (in the late 1890s or early 1900s).

         The things we have in our house almost always have memories attached to them (or to the people who gave them to us). We hold them dear because of those memories. But one thing I learned in the last few years is that memories can’t be passed down to following generations (stories can, but not memories). We have the bedroom suite that belonged to my paternal grandparents—a poster bed, high-boy chest of drawers, and a sit-down dresser with triple mirrors (the two on either side of the center one are movable). I have always treasured that furniture because of the memories it holds to me.  My grandparents' bedroom was where the family always gathered to visit–it had an outside door near to their garage and the only television set in the house, along with my grandparents’ chairs on either side of their bed (where they sat as they watched television). Besides, the front room/parlor was for guests, and we were family.

         Years of memories are wrapped up in that furniture, and I treasure all of them. The thing is my children don’t have those memories. The furniture is just that—furniture, and not even their style. As gut-retching as it if for me to say, when I’m gone, so will be that furniture. This applies to a lot of things in our house. There are still somethings my children will want—my daughter wants my grandmother’s crystal stemware and my son would like to have the chess set. But for most of the things my husband and I leave behind, it will just be stuff. And that is as it should be. My memories are mine. My children will have their own memories, as will their children after them.

           Most of my treasures will become stuff, as they are donated or sold. The things that have memories to my children will be kept, probably to be donated or sold by their children after them. But isn’t that just the way of life.

           So I will enjoy my things with their memories while I can, knowing that my children will create their own memories.

Throwback Thursday: Woman Sitting Outside

Here's my caption:
"Aren't I adorable?"

What's your caption? Feel free to leave it in the Comment Section below.

Memory Monday: Food in 1917

My daddy

FOOD IN 1917

"FOOD IS FUEL FOR FIGHTERS. Do not waste it. Save WHEAT, MEAT, SUGARS AND FATS. Send more to our Soldiers, Sailors and Allies."

The above is the open to the preface of a book about food during World War 1, titled Every Day Foods in War Times, with a copyright date of 1917 (the year my father was born).

Women of the day were encouraged to have victory gardens and not use certain foods so there would be enough for the men fighting.

Below are a few of the interesting recipes I found in the book.

Potato Drop Cookies

Hot mashed potatoes 1 ½ cups

Sugar, ¼ cups

Beef or mutton fat, 1 cup

Flour, 1 ¾ cups

Baking powder, 2 tea­spoons

Cinnamon, 1 teaspoon

Cloves, ½ teaspoon

Nutmeg, ½ teaspoon

Raisins, chopped, ½ cup

Nuts, chopped, ¼ cup

Combine the ingredients in the order given and drop the mixture by spoonfuls on a slightly greased tin. Bake the cookies in a moderate oven.

(I can almost see my grandmother trimming a piece of raw meat--something they got for a special occasion or maybe my grandmother just went to the butcher and bought the fat to render--putting the fat in a pot, and rendering it down to have the fat for these cookies. Then she used the left-over potatoes that she saved back from supper the night before to use for this dessert. Maybe this would have been for my daddy’s first birthday.)

Peanut Loaf (10)

   Chopped peanuts, 1 cup         Salt, 1 ½ teaspoons

      Bread crumbs, 2 cups              Paprika, ¼ teaspoon

             Egg, 1                                     Melted fat, 1 tablespoon

                                         Milk, 1 cup

Mix dry ingredients, add beaten egg and milk. Put into a greased pan, pour the melted fat on top, bake. Turn onto a hot platter and serve with sauce.

Sauce for Loaf

                                                   Hot water, 1 cup       Flour, 2 tablespoons  

                                                    Beef cube, 1             Salt, ½ teaspoon       

                                                    Juice 1 lemon           Paprika, A teaspoon

            Fat, 2 tablespoons      Few grains nutmeg

Melt fat, add flour with seasoning, add hot water in which beef cube has been dissolved. Just before serving add lemon juice.

This nut loaf with its accompanying sauce is a highly nutritious dish and is excellent for lunch or supper. Serve no meat or potatoes with it.

(These ladies were really dedicated to helping out the men who fought to protect our country.)

Mock Sausage

Lima beans, dried, 1/2 cup      Pepper, few grains

                                      Bread Crumbs, 1/3 cup            Salt, 1/4 teaspoon

        Butter, 3 Tablespoons             Sage, 1/2-3/4 teaspoons

                                       Egg 1               

Pick over and wash beans, cover with water, and let soak overnight. Drain; cook in boiling salted water until tender, about one and one-half hours.

Force through a strainer, add remaining ingredients. Shape into form of sausages, roll in crumbs, egg, and crumbs again. Sauté in fat until brown. It requires about two-thirds cup crumbs and one-half egg for dipping sausage. May be garnished with fried apples.

(This might be my least favorite of the recipes. Somehow, even with my eyes closed, I wouldn’t think these were the same as Better with Cheddar Brats. Something I wonder about—what did the homemaker do with the other half of the egg?)

When all is said and done, one really has to admire the American homemakers of 1917

Throwback Thursday: Lady and the Car

Here's my caption:
"Now, ladies, let me turn around and show you how to push while the man steers the car."

What's your caption? Feel free to leave it in the Comment Section below.