Along with many others, I have pulled out my sewing machine, gathered my stashed sewing supplies, and found multiple videos and directions for making cloth face masks for ourselves and others who are in need of them during this health crisis we find ourselves in. I am not a sewing expert, nor an exacting sort of seamstress. Sadly, my sewing meets the standard of “getting the job done,” but then again, cloth face masks in the middle of a pandemic are not exactly fashion statements. Continue reading →
As I worked with my dad to create a memoir for him to share with our family, we came to the year he spent courting my mother in 1949. Dad was more than happy to share the events of how he and Mom met, a story I had grown up hearing. But a significant event that occurred during that year before they married had been left out of Dad’s narrative.
Shortly before Dad’s memoir was to be published, my sister handed me a box that included letters my father wrote to Mom during that courtship year. In a few letters from my dad to Mom, Dad wrote some cryptic notes, including a comment that left me puzzled. Continue reading →
“We should have cake,” I suggested. Carol, one of our long-time members, said, “Sure,” while Amy, my co-leader said to Carol, “What about your Depression era cake?” And so a party was organized, just like that, in celebration of our writer’s group meeting together for the past two years. Continue reading →
Checking out my mother’s well-used, well-loved copy of Joy of Cooking
In years past my granddaughter and I have spent time making salads, baking bread, and making cookies. But we had never made banana bread together. She and I had a free afternoon and I had bananas in the freezer just waiting to be transformed into bread that is great for breakfast (and other times as well!)
I reached for my mother’s “Joy of Cooking” recipe book, published probably in the 1940’s, and given to her, I suspect, as a wedding gift. Many recipe books have directions for how to make banana bread, but I really like how this one’s ingredients turn out. It must be the buttermilk.
So many banana bread ingredients have fallen onto this page in the past!
As I opened to the page for banana bread, Nicole stared at the page and commented, “It looks like a lot of the ingredients fell onto the page!” We laughed, and I agreed that Florida Granny (her name for my parents were Florida Granny and Grampy) used this book many times. In fact, most of my memories were of baking banana bread with my dad. I suspect he had something to do with the “decorations” on the page too!
Egg cracking skills are getting some practice in Grandma’s kitchen
We got started and were soon assembling the ingredients, helping Nicole measure flour, baking soda, baking powder, sugar and butter. We paid extra attention to the teaspoon measures and practiced using fractions as we worked. Soon most of the needed items were collected. She cracked an egg into a separate bowl, I extracted a few stray egg shells, and on we went.
Chopping nuts!Fun practicing using fractions using measuring spoons
With each step, Nicole had questions. What joy to share simple kitchen knowledge with my growing grandgirl, now nine and soon approaching my own height. She wanted a turn with the nut chopper and took great delight in whacking away at the nuts to pulverize them before dumping them into bowl with everything else.
Some mixed feelings handling frozen, then thawed bananas!
But the bananas were another issue entirely. She was willing, but not quite sure what to expect since the frozen, now thawed bananas were squishy, almost slimy in texture. But she soldiered on and got all the bananas into the bowl too.
Finished banana bread
Once everything was mixed and into the oven, she continued with questions. One question stopped me. “What will you do with this book when you don’t need it any more, Grandma?”
Ah, she is getting old enough to grasp that none of us lives forever, even if that’s not what she said. I admitted I hadn’t really thought about it. “Would you like it someday?” She nodded, and hugged me.
Passing on family stories happens in so many forms. Sometimes baking together and letting the conversation flow as our hands are busy is the most natural place to start. Making room for the next generation in our kitchens is a real gift–for the younger generation as well as those of us who have been around for awhile.
For those interested, here’s the recipe!
Banana Bread—older Joy of Cooking recipe
2 cups white or wheat flour
½ t. baking powder
½ t. baking soda
¼ t. salt
Cream together ¼ cup sugar
¼ cup butter, then add
1 egg
Add dry ingredients to wet ingredients, then
add 2/3 cup mashed bananas
add 3 T. buttermilk (I use powered buttermilk and add the
powder with three T of water)
Add ½ cup chopped walnuts, place in breadpan, bake at 350 degrees for about 50 minutes.
Caleb Rae (with cousin Em Turner Chitty) 2017, Coalmont, TN
Glen Kuhl, early 1900s, Wisconsin
The first time I saw the photo, my first thought was, “That’s my son.” But in fact, I was assured that the young man in the photo, who was standing in the dirt road, was actually my grandfather Glen, who had died before I was born. I’d never met him, and yet, I knew that stance. It was so familiar because my son often stood in this same pose, looking thoughtful, listening intently, or simply pondering his surroundings. Continue reading →
(Guest Blog post)-Shawon Davis is a wedding and women’s portrait photographer. She has been telling beautiful stories through photographs since 2011. Her studio is located in Medway, MA. You can read more stories on her blog: www.shawondavis.com/blog see her work here: www.shawondavis.com and follow her on Instagram @shawondavis and Facebook @shawondavisphotography for daily storytelling, encouragement, and a glance at some of her favorite things.
On any given weekend, a couple somewhere in the world is getting married. Chances are they’ve hired a photographer to capture the moments. They’ve hired someone to show up to take pictures of their special day.
As the couple looks back on their special day, they page through an album filled with formal family pictures, with everyone smiling at the camera. A few pictures show the bride getting out of the car before she heads into the church. There’s always a beautiful picture of the bride walking down the aisle, but she longs to see the expression on her groom’s face. Invariably, pictures of loved ones who have now passed away are among these photos, but the smiles the camera captured do not echo these loved ones’ humor or loving ways.
Heading out on the tow path on our Make Your Own Story Book hike
Working collaboratively is such an exciting experience. I’ve found that ideas bubble up when I open myself to others’ ideas, listen to what another person has in mind, and together we come up with something I’d never have thought of on my own. That may have been what happened when I met up with Kathryn, who works with programming at Riverbend Farm in Uxbridge. Continue reading →
Winter’s first snow in the woods behind Silver Lake, Bellingham
I often get the feeling I’m crossing into another place and time when I stride through the woods right behind my house in Bellingham. We live within sight of Silver Lake, which at one time was the local “hot spot” for entertainment of all kinds–a carousel carried wooden horse in endless circles in the beach area, and a dance hall offered Big Band tunes in the 1940’s. I hear there were even performing horses that dove into the lake from great heights! Continue reading →
When I heard our young neighbors had just had their first baby. I thought to myself, “Baby blanket.” I needed to make them a baby blanket.
My children were the first grandchildren on both sides of our family and were showered with gifts from their grandparents. But the gift that took on lasting meaning in our family was the flannel baby blankets my mom began making. Continue reading →
When you have a bunch of kids, sometimes you need to whistle to get their attention!
Working as a personal historian, I never know what it will take to get someone talking. Some folks easily call up memories, while others need the stories drawn out of them. And then sometimes, all it takes is a whistle. MTH
It was just a whistle—I looked around but saw no one whistling, and the woman behind the desk was fussing with her phone. I finally asked her—“Were you whistling?” Continue reading →
Marjorie Turner Hollman 