Mud pies
I recently lost one of my beloved cousins and it started me thinking about when we were kids. His mother was my father's sister and our families used to spend quite a lot of time together.
Sometimes in our minds as adults, we remember things differently than they may have been. Knowing this, it seems that we lived somewhere southeast of Dexter, perhaps in rural Essex or Risco. I must put this on my list of things to ask Mom.
Anyway, I was thinking about one day in particular when we were visiting with them at their home. I recall being in the back yard and, apparently, it had rained. I surmise this because I was making "mud pies." Those of you who are my age, remember those days? Or am I the only girl to make mud pies for entertainment? I think not!
My daughter, Gina, reminded me of the time I was teaching her and her little sister, Shelly, the art of making mud pies.
When they were young, we lived on ZZ close to the railroad. Back in those days there were lots of, how shall I say it? Men who rode the rails? Anyway, I was well known for giving food to anyone who needed it and taught my girls to do the same. When we finished making the pies, according to Gina, we had one of those visitors. The girls wanted to share their delectables with this person and I was just interested in scooting them into the house.
Apparently, the girls were dismayed and couldn't understand why they couldn't share their homemade pies and thought Momma was going back on her teachings. Probably, if we could remember the full details, the visitor went away with a full tummy. Maybe even with a mud pie tucked in his sack for dessert.
Now, back to the original story. There were some sort of cages or something that I was using for my stove and table. Could have been rabbit cages? Anyway, I was really cookin' em up.
I had long hair and I was working up a sweat with all that "cookin'." I was pushing my hair back with my muddy hands and wiping them on my dress. Since my ingredients were coming from those mud holes in the ground, by the time I finished those pies, I must have been muddy from head to toe. Wonder if I got a spanking for getting so muddy? Probably not.
Now, I don't know if Mom remembers this occasion or not, (how could she remember everything that eight of us kids did growing up?) but, I served those pies to anyone who would sample one. Did you ever take a bite of a mud pie? I did, and although they weren't the tastiest, I did my best to convince everyone on taking a bite and they agreed to do so. As an adult, I now know they only pretended to take a bite, but they convinced me that day that they really did and that the pies were delicious.
Needless to say, I went home from my aunt and uncle's home with the satisfaction that I was the 'best little pie maker around'.
I really hope these little stories take you back to your own childhood and bring back good memories of bygone days. Keep your e-mails and phone calls coming. They are a source of encouragement to me.
See ya next time in the Korner.
Comments
- -- Posted by goat lady on Tue, Sep 14, 2010, at 1:01 PM
- -- Posted by bobbysue on Tue, Sep 14, 2010, at 2:46 PM
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