From the Barefoot Files...

This past week was another family birthday. My other grandmother, Grandma Lucille, would have been 93 this week. This is a photo of her when she was about 16. She and I share a birthday month. She used to always say her birthday cake would last until it was time for me to have one.

Summertime in her kitchen meant canning and preserving fruits and vegetables for colder months. I would hang around in the kitchen with her all day. I watched as she squeezed grape juice through cheesecloth to make jelly and capped thousands of strawberries to make preserves -- the best preserves I ever had.

I have put together two family cookbooks with special recipes from relatives. When I was working on the last book -- just as I was finishing it up -- I had leftover mashed potatoes one night. I had to call her to ask how she made her potato cakes. She gave me the quick and easy recipe over the phone. Since I was almost finished with the book and already made the copies of the section it would go in -- I put this recipe in the forward section of the cookbook.

Potato Cakes

2 - 3 cups of leftover mashed potatoes, 1 egg, 1/4 - 1/2 cup of flour, pinch of baking powder

Mix well and shape into balls, about the size of an egg. Heat a little oil in a pan. Place the balls in the pan and flatten slightly. Cook over medium high heat until browned well on both sides.

At Christmastime she would get out the cookie cutters and we would make sugar cookies. The kitchen table would be covered with sprinkles, dough, colored surgar, and flour. I have those cookie cutters in my kitchen and use them at Christmas when I make cookies with my kids.

Grandma enabled my love of bringing home creatures that I found. She always had some type of container ready to hold a crawdad, toad, minnow, eggs of some kind, or just some daisies from the field. One time I brought home (with the help of granddaddy) what I thought were frog's eggs. They weren't. When they hatched -- they were salamanders. When we saw a box turtle -- it was mine. Once when she was driving to my aunt's house, we spotted a box turtle. She stopped the car to let me get it. When I was really little -- I remember having a jar of dirt and earthworms. Digging for worms was fun and they were great to take fishing!

I spent a lot of weekends at her house. She let me experiment with cooking. And when I had a want for a new kitten or puppy -- she would let me have one at her house. She saw a lot of things change in her lifetime; from 1916 to 2006. We used to talk about it sometimes when I talked to her on the phone. I used to try to give her a call almost every day.

Vintage Photo Friday

Today is my parent's wedding anniversary. They were married in 1960. They were married in a small church and the reception was held in the small activities building next to the church. This photo shows them walking down the steps in the activity building. I can't remember who the guy in the background is -- I know my mother will tell me later.

I was married in the same church twenty three years later. (Photo of that coming on a Vintage Photo Friday in August) My reception was in the small activity building next door as well. When I got married in August, the temperature was 105 degrees. There was no air conditioning in the church or other building. At the reception I remember my dad saying if it got any hotter he was going to take off his tux and finish out the rest of the reception in his underwear. Knowing my dad, I was afraid he was serious. I hope that when they got married in June it was much cooler -- I am sure it was.

Vintage Photo Friday

Since it is near another birthday, I am posting a photo of my grandmother (my father's mother). She was born in 1915 and had a twin brother. I remember spending time at her house as a child. She had a tiny kitchen -- very tiny! Along the top of her wardrobe there were hat boxes that held the hats she would wear to church. Behind the door to the bedroom I had a library (stack) of Little Golden Books.

When I think of her in the kitchen I remember her making coconut cakes and lemon meringue pies. She would give me a taste of the coconut milk and coconut meat. It was very exotic. Her lemon pies were also delicious. After they cooled, there would be small dots of a sugary, carmel-colored liquid collected around the meringue. There was a cherry tree in the yard. I would help her pick cherries and then she would make a delicious cherry roll with them.

My grandmother was one of the church ladies. It was fun for me to hang around with her at church. On the days when we would have a big pot luck after service was over, she would leave church early to help set things up. She would let me leave early to also come along with her. Of course she would have made a coconut cake or lemon pie to bring along with potato salad and ham biscuits.

Grandma Mildred (what my kids called her) had Alzheimer's in her later years. She did not know me for the last few years of her life. Throughout her life she was a healthy person. I remember the last time I saw her. When I visited I did not try to get her to remember me or certain things. I talked to her about cakes and pies. She smiled a big smile when I asked if she liked chocolate pie (yes, she made those too).

I am not sure when this photo of her was taken -- she looks around 6 years old. The background of the photo makes me think it was taken in the yard at her home. I remember that fence.

Granddaddy King

Last week I began "Vintage Photo Friday" with a photo of one of my grandfathers.  I began with him since his birthday was that week.  Well, as it turned out, my other grandfather's birthday was exactly a week from his.  They were even born in the same year.  The photo today features George King sitting on the back steps at their house.  The house is no longer there -- development has replaced it.

This photo of him shows a bit of hair.  I remember him as bald.  He did have some hair that would grow on the sides of his head -- but he shaved it.  He once told me that if he could not have hair all over his head, he did not want it at all.  George was the youngest child of George and Doritha King.  At the time my grandfather was born; his father was 69 years old.  At his birth, my granddaddy had adult brothers.

Granddaddy tended a garden -- heading out early in the mornings before it got too hot.  He drove an old black Comet -- slowly.  He would sit in the car while grandma would go into the store to get groceries.  When I was along, I would sit in the car with him.  I think this is when my love of snarkiness was born -- he used to make the best comments.

When I was in elementary school, I would catch the bus at his house.  My mother would drop me off on her way to work.  Granddaddy would stand at the stop with me; it was on the side road (dirt road) along the side of his property.  I was the only one at that stop.  Every morning we would stand there and wait for Mervin to arrive with the school bus.  While we waited, he would give me a weather report based on the clouds and wind patterns.  

Granddaddy always called me "Peter."  I will never know why.  He would let me follow him around while he did things in the old dirt floor garage.  He would tell me to always look out for Number 1 (good advice).  He had a little room in the garage with a recliner and magazines -- I guess that was his 'office.'  In that room he had some jars on a shelf labeled "cotter pins" that actually held money.  When I was very little, I would spend the night on Saturdays.  On Sunday mornings, I would sit on his lap in his recliner while he would read the Sunday comics to me.  He liked Dennis the Menace, Henry, Gasoline Alley, Nancy, Lil' Abner, and Peanuts.  I remember seeing the scythe he used hanging in his garage.  He would tell me about using it, working all day, eating lunch from a bucket, and earning a dollar for that hard work.  I have the scythe at my house now.

When I was little I remember spending time with him sitting on the front porch in rocking chairs watching the cars go by.  It was shaded in the afternoon and a good way to spend some time on a hot summer day.   

Granddaddy

Yesterday I had a cool idea -- I will begin featuring old photos on the blog from my collection.  I have many old family photos.  They are wonderful treasures to have and every Christmas I decorate my Christmas tree with over 100 photos from great-great-great grandparents through the years and through the families down to my children.  

Today I am beginning this with a photo of my grandfather, Guy H. Ferguson.  I am beginning with him because earlier this week was his birthday.  He would be over 100 now and he is no longer with us.  We do have many wonderful photos and memories of him.  This photo is Granddaddy holding my mother.  I did not have to do a lot of restoration on this photo.  There was a bit of contrast adjustment and a few specs to clean up -- but overall the photo was in good condition.

On the blog when I say "forty years since Donna tracked the woods of Virginia with her grandfather..." this is the one I am talking about.  I remember many times following him through the woods and listening to him tell me about the trees and plants we passed.  We spent many hours fishing together -- he always baited my hook and took the fish from the hook when I would catch one.  He taught me to shoot a gun and a bow and arrow.  I used to help him plant the garden and pick the vegetables when they were ripe.  I also remember helping him clean fish, pull feathers from turkeys, and skin a deer -- at least he let me think I was helping.

Granddaddy and I would go bottle hunting.  We would dig at old homesites to find buried treasures from times gone by.  I would go with him to "The Base" (Quantico) to see about his hunting license or just to see someone about something.  He took me with him to the water plant a few times -- where he worked when he retired from the Marines.  It was loud -- but very interesting.  The first time I drove a car -- I was probably 13 or 14 -- was on a lone road on the base (Camp Barrett to be exact) and I think all of my cousins -- or at least three of them -- were in the old Pontiac LeMans as I worked hard to keep it on the road and not travel over the double yellow line.  The same LeMans he would say "whoa" to when he pulled up to the house and parked.  I remember following him through the garden when I was very little.  He would find arrowheads, rub off the dirt, and hand them to me to look at.  One of my most vivid memories is of a time when I was small -- he held the pistol and let me pull the trigger to shoot a copperhead in the garden.

My granddad taught me about respect -- respect for the land and wildlife through his gardening and hunting, respect for firearms, respect for the past, and to respect family.  I can't ever remember hearing him say a foul word or smoke a cigarette.  I think I can only remember ever seeing him drink any alcohol twice.   I had a great childhood hanging around with my grandparents and I wish my children could have had the same experiences.  It was hard to beat catching crawdads with your granddaddy and frying fish you caught for dinner.