Let me introduce you to my grandmother–not to be confused with my grandma. Grandmother was tall, slender and kept a perfect house. (I once left out a cast iron skillet at her house and she reprimanded me for it. Hey, it was clean. What’s the problem?)
Grandma took me fishing from the time I was 6 weeks old, taught me to bait my own hooks and love working in the garden.
Grandma lived in Tahlequah–well Park Hill, Oklahoma–until I was in high school. It was a two hour drive to go visit her, so getting to see Grandma was something special.
Grandmother lived in my hometown. In fact, my family and I lived either with Grandmother (and Granddad, of course) or next door to them from the time I was born until I got married. (No, my father isn’t an only child. He is, however, the baby of the family.)
Grandmother was raised, lived and died within about 20 miles of her birthplace in northeast Oklahoma.
Grandma was born “on the delta” in Mississippi, and when she was about two, moved to Oklahoma. She taught my mother to make biscuits “southern style”. (There’s no fat in the dough.)
Grandmother learned how to make “great” biscuits from Mom.
Both of my grandmothers were excellent cooks. Grandma won the Cherokee County Fair blue ribbon for her hot rolls several years in a row. (They’re a ton of work!)
If she’d entered (which she never would) Grandmother could have won the blue ribbon for her noodles at the Pawnee County Fair. Seriously. Or her chili. Or turkey dressing.
Seems as if my grandmothers were a lot alike, doesn’t it? While they were really good friends at the end of their lives (and maybe before that. I’m not sure) they weren’t alike at all.
Grandma was a died-in-the-wool Democrat and Baptist.
Grandmother, on the other hand, was a Republican and a Christian. (Independent Christian Church.)
Grandma loved living on the farm.
Grandmother lived in town once she had a choice.
Grandma grew a uber veggie garden.
Grandmother liked to grow roses, cut them and take them into the house. (Letting them stay on the bush was wasteful, according to her.)
Grandma knew. No matter the subject, if Grandma added her two cents, it was with an exclamation point at the end. Arguments not considered.
Most of Grandmother’s declarative statements ended with, “I think”.
Grandma was a rascal, full of spice.
Grandmother was the sweetest woman God ever created.
Grandma died in November of 1990.
Grandmother took the loaded bus to heaven when the family van was hit by a drunk driver in May, 1991.
When I moved home from Pryor, I moved into Grandmother’s house. Almost everything was just as she’d left it. Her bureau drawers were still lined with old newspapers. She still had hats in the linen closet from the 40’s, 50’s and early 60’s.
And in her kitchen, she had a drawer FULL of recipes. When I moved out of her house to my own, I took those recipes with me. I copied all of them and put them in a three ring binder for each of my siblings. (I made copies for my cousins, too.)
When I finished, I noticed one thing: These recipes were the ones Grandmother didn’t use very often. Her turkey and dressing wasn’t there. Her noodle recipe–gone. Her pineapple cream pie? Nope. Even her lemonade (which was made with oranges as well as lemons) was missing.
Why?
Because she didn’t need those recipes to make the dishes. She’d made them so many times over the years, she had the recipes embedded in her brain. <g>
It didn’t matter, though. My sibs were thrilled to have them in her own handwriting. My Christmas present was a hit!
The kiddo was doing so well, the docs decided to send her home. Imagine, after having your brain opened twice, she’s already feeling and doing well enough to go home.
