My People

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Language of My People: Part 9

September 7, 2010 in My People by Sara | 1 comment

What with all the excitement around here this weekend, I’m pooped. We had a wonderful visit with our friends the Hamptons who have two girls that make me want to just eat both of them up. Our four girls fit together like four little peas in a pod and we grownups don’t do too badly either. We had lots of good fellowship and a good meal or two and the weekend just flew by.

All that to say that I’ll have more to say about the weekend later, but for now I’m going to leave you with this jewel.

My mom and I were talking about somebody while I was home this summer and I was trying to describe her in greater detail. So I said, “You know, she’s just kind of mealy mouthed.” My mom nodded knowingly and my husband looked bewildered.

So for all you who are equally confused.

Mealy mouthed: Equal parts wimpy, backward, whiny and timid.

Not a compliment.

Now go see if you can use it in a sentence……

Ready For Winter

August 2, 2010 in Family, Food, My People by Sara | 2 comments

One of the best things we did while visiting my family in Tennessee was to can green beans for the upcoming winter. Last year we did the same thing and it just about killed my mom and me. I was kind of dreading it, to tell the truth, because what I remembered from last year was spending hours and hours stringing and breaking beans while my mom labored over the hot stove and two pressure cookers and the house was a thousand degrees and felt like a sauna by the time we were done.

But there is nothing like green beans from the garden in the dead of winter when there is snow on the ground and summer feels a million days away. So we decided to do it all again.

This year was completely different. My mom and I kept looking at each other saying, “Why is this so much easier this year?”

One things was that we had a lot of hands helping with the work this year.

Three generations of bean breakers

We plowed through those two bushels of beans in not time flat. Now I know why farming families in the olden days had so many children. More hands = more work done quickly.

It still took most of the day to get them all processed. I guess the only way to speed that part up would be to have an industrial size kitchen with 10 pressure cookers going all at the same time. But it will be so worth it.

Thanks, Mom. Maybe next year you’ll even let me run one of the pressure cookers, huh?

Stingers, Stingers Everywhere

July 28, 2010 in Family, My People by Sara | No comments

There are many things that I love about being at my parent’s house. There is one thing that I don’t really love so much.

There are wasps everywhere.

And they hate me.

Today I was just standing there minding my own business when one swooped down and stung me on the arm. Luckily there was no one there to witness the words that may or may not have come pouring out of my mouth. If you’ve ever been stung by a wasp, I’m sure you understand.

At least this time I was able to keep my pants on.

Let me explain.

Last summer I was helping my mom and dad move a camper. There were some tall grasses grown up around it and I had kind of waded in to clear out some stuff when I stumbled into a wasp nest. Before I could make a move, a wasp flew up my pants and stung me three times. On the foot, on the ankle, and halfway up my calf.

Do you remember this scene from “A Christmas Story”?

I said “fudge” in front of my mother.

And since the wasp seemed determined to keep heading north and I couldn’t bear the thought of a wasp stinging me anywhere north of my upper thigh, I did the only thing I could think to do.

I took my pants off.

In front of my father.

Luckily for me, my father was totally understanding. He’s had a few wasps sting him in his day. He just shook his head and said,

“It was the only thing you could do.”

I may just stay inside from here on out.

Hot, Hot, and Hotter

July 26, 2010 in My People by Sara | 2 comments

What to do when the temperature climbs into the high 90s in Ohio?

Why, you travel south, of course. Cause it’s only the low 100s here. And the humidity? Let’s just say it’s like breathing soup walking outside.

My husband is astounded, even after all these years that I can’t tolerate the heat. He keeps saying, “But you are a southern girl! Why don’t you like the heat?”

Ummm. Maybe for the same reason that you grew up in Rochester, NY where it snows for 6 months every year and you don’t like the snow.

Just because you grew up with something doesn’t mean you like it.

The heat? No.

Fried bologna on white bread with mayo and tomato slices fresh from the garden? Yes.

I’ll probably get plenty of both this week.

Food: North vs South

May 6, 2010 in Family, Food, My People by Sara | 3 comments

Oh we did some good eating while the folks were here. It was a family affair that had all of us lending our culinary skills to the mix. Kathy made both an apple and an apple rhubarb pie. Yum. You really have no idea what you are missing. Her crusts are amazing and the apples are always sweetened just enough. Her apple pie tastes just like an apple and while you would think that would be the goal with all apple pies, you’d be surprised how often the mark is missed.

JD smoked some mean pork shoulder on Saturday and Mom made some yummy slaw and Daddy put his two cents in on the dressing for the potato salad. His main concern is that the potatoes be cut up into JUST the right size bites. He’s particular that way…..

I made this on Friday.

Halibut yummy-ness

You can find the recipe here. Don’t bother searing the fish in a cast iron skillet unless you want your house to smell like fish for 4 days afterward. Just throw it on the grill and be done with it. And if the thought of fish makes you a bit queasy, just substitute chicken or even thinly sliced flank steak. It’ll still be delicious. If you do decide to use fish, any thicker white fish like halibut or swordfish will do. Don’t use thin fillets like tilapia or snapper….it’ll fall all to pieces on the grill and make you cranky.

All this making of food of course led us to talking about food. We recalled our favorite foods from childhood. And this is where the split between north and south became quite evident. We southerners talked about Ruben sandwiches and cheese toast. Scrambled egg sandwiches on white bread with a fresh from the garden tomato. Fried bologna sandwiches. Oh my.

Then it was the northerner’s turn. Kathy (100% Dutch pedigree) told of a supper called “Dutch supper”. This is a meal where potatoes are boiled and then the potato water is thickened with corn starch to make gravy.

Yeah, I know. Gravy in the south has nothing to do with potato water and corn starch and everything to do with some sort of fat mixed with flour and milk. Preferably with some sausage thrown in for good measure. But we’ll just let them pretend that potato water makes gravy, shall we?

Anyway, you then take wax beans and hard boiled eggs and I believe you but vinegar on the beans and then you put it all on your plate and eat it.

This recipe sounds similar to the meal that my father in law requested soon after returning home from the hospital after heart surgery. Potatoes are once again boiled, cod is poached, gravy is made (ahem) once again from the potato water and once again you put it all on your plate and there you go.

The Dutch appear to be fond of the monochromatic plate.

But I am willing to give the Dutch supper a try. I love vinegar and hard boiled eggs and I love my mother in law so I’ll be happy to have it the very next time we are in New York.

As long as she makes apple pie for dessert.

And I can make sausage gravy for breakfast the next day.

Language of My People: North vs South Edition

May 5, 2010 in Family, My People by Sara | 3 comments

When my wonderful sister-in-law married the love of her life shortly before JD and I tied the knot, I knew that the wedding would be beautiful. I knew Anne would look lovely and Mark very handsome. I knew the decorations would be tasteful and the food delicious. I even expected I might see and hear a few things that I hadn’t heard or seen being that I think I was one of very few people from south of the Mason Dixon line. I thought I might need a translator.

What I didn’t know was that because Mark’s side of the family was from Boston, even the other Yankees might have some trouble.

You see, one of Mark’s brothers did a beautiful reading. It started out “Mend a quarrel….”

Except with a very thick Boston accent it came out sounding something like “Mend a quall”

And every person on Anne’s side of the church cocked their head to one side and had a very puzzled look on their face as they tried to figure out what a quall was and why you might need to mend one.

I saw that same look many times this weekend on the faces of my in-laws. My family has a very VERY southern drawl to their speech and more than once a head and eyebrow were cocked as the wheels turned furiously trying to figure out what was just said.

A couple of examples.

One of my dad’s favorite things to do when visiting me is going to this giant liquidator warehouse and spending the good part of a day searching for fabulous bargains. This time he told Kathy and Dave that he found a whole bag of bolts for only five dollars!

Only to their ear it sounded like he found a bag of bowls and while they appreciate a bargain as much as the next person, I’m pretty sure they were having a hard time figuring out what in the world he was going to do with a whole bag of bowls.

Another time my mom was was talking about someone’s children and said, “They are just so backwards.”

Cue puzzled look on Kathy’s face.

Translation: They are a little socially awkward.

Ahh. Yes.

It one of the best parts of being all together. And one of the funniest.

No language barrier here! Pa holds everyones attention with one of his tall tales.

No language barrier here. Pa holds their attention with one of his tall tales.

The Greatest Gift

March 22, 2010 in Family, My People by Sara | 3 comments

On the first day of spring in 1970, the black rotary phone in my grandparents house rang. I excitedly ran along side my grandmother as she picked it up. She talked for a few minutes, hung up and then said five words that changed my world forever.

“You have a baby sister!”

To this day it remains one of the greatest gifts my parents ever gave me. She was mine from the moment she got home from the hospital. I was just shy of 7 years old and I had been anxiously awaiting the arrival of this new baby since my mama’s tummy started looking suspiciously large. March 6 was her original due date and I was very disappointed when my mom picked me up from school that day, still very obviously pregnant.

My poor sister has had to put up with not one, but two mothers her entire life. I really still believe that I am responsible for her well being and happiness. And that I have the right to tell her how to run her life. Most of the time she lets me believe she is listening to me, but I am growing suspicious that she doesn’t really do as I say.

We were far apart enough in age that we didn’t have a lot of sibling rivalry. And I hope that she would agree that for the most part we have almost always gotten along (we won’t mention that “monuments in the rain” episode).

I was off to college by the time she was in the 7th grade, but when I was home on vacations she would still wake me up to make me braid her hair for school. We shared a room the entire time I was growing up and I don’t ever remember wishing it was any different. I even liked when she would get scared and crawl into my bed with me.

She has grown into an amazing woman. Although I am the older sister, she has taught me so many lessons. She is the very picture of a devoted wife and mother. There is nothing she will not do for her family.

She is amazing.

I love her with my whole heart.

And she’ll be my baby sister forever.

Happy Birthday, sis.

No One Will Ever Confuse Us With The Griswalds

December 8, 2009 in Holidays, Home, My People by Sara | 7 comments

Since JD and I married we have only spent Christmas in our own house one time. Usually we take time about going to his folks or to mine. The girls have no memory of ever spending Christmas in their own house.

My mom, although I know she feels conflicted about it, has been encouraging us to establish our own traditions. She’s good that way. One of the things I’ve always loved about her is her willingness to let me be independent.

With all the other changes that happened this year, it just kind of seemed like this was the right time to start our own thing. So we are staying home for Christmas.

The problem with this is that I have almost no Christmas decorations. I’ve always just done the bare minimum to escape being a total Scrooge. For the last several years we haven’t even put up a real tree. We just made do with a little 4 ft pitiful thing that held only a few of our ornaments.

Add to this lack of tinsel and bows the fact that we now live on a street that does it UP RIGHT at Christmas and you see my dilemma. For those of you who hail from my hometown, remember Chief’s house? Yeah, we’ve got our own Chief just two houses down. For those of you who don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, just picture every Christmas light you’ve ever seen including, but not limited to, reindeer, a manger scene, candy canes, and Santa and his sleigh on the roof and countless other things all blazing with full color. All on a house that was probably about 1200 square feet (if that). When I was really small I can remember walking up to the porch were Chief would sit dressed as Santa and hand out candy canes to the kids.

So we bought a few things. Some lights and some garland. But by far my favorite find so far are these over sized ornaments I found at Target. Love, love, love them.

This morning we woke to the first snow of the season. It didn’t last long, but it sure made my puny little decorations look wonderful.

Maybe I’ll hit the after Christmas sales and pick up a couple of inflatable Santas and a herd of lighted reindeer for the front yard.

Or maybe not.

I don’t think I have Chief’s artistic flair. Or enough electrical outlets.

Happily Ever After…….Finally

August 31, 2009 in Family, My People by Sara | 2 comments

It all began 27 years ago.

The princess and the prince went to the ball together and all was good.

Then it wasn’t.

The prince and the princess went their separate ways just because life sometimes works out that way.

But they thought of each other fondly all those years.

And in the funny way that things sometimes happen, many years and a few heartaches later they found that she still thought he was a prince and he thought that she was just the princess he needed.

So on Saturday, they gathered their family and friends together and in a little country church built by the princess’ grandfather, they promised to love one another forever and slay any dragons that come their way.

Then they rode off into the sunset on the royal steed.

And lived happily ever after.

The End.

Icee

August 20, 2009 in Family, Good Ole Days, My People by Sara | 6 comments

I grew up in a town with one red light. It hung right in the middle of town and would sway dangerously in any high wind. The four buildings on each corner were the library, the bank, a gas station and a small grocery store.

Mr. Johnson’s store was about halfway between our elementary school and our house and every once in a while my brother and I would walk home together and if by chance we had a couple of quarters in our pocket we would stop by Mr. Johnson’s store and get an Icee. Oh it was heavenly. That red and blue striped cup filled up to the very top with either cherry or coke flavored icee. Has there ever been a better treat?

We usually only had money for one so we would ask for two straws and take turns sipping. One day Mr. Johnson made some remark about Mike and I being boyfriend and girlfriend. And while you can make all the jokes you want about Southern family trees consisting on one limb straight up, we DO NOT swing that way in our family. We were completely horrified and set him straight without delay.

So, Brother, I don’t want to be your girlfriend, but I sure am glad to be your sister.

Happy Birthday. I’m guessing this may just be your best year yet.

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