“Pancakes — Big Momie style”

    “Pancakes are versatile and you have to choose & learn your best mixture.  If you like ‘em thin or thick or just good.
“I sift about 1 cup self rising flour with 1/2 tsp soda, add enough buttermilk & 1 egg & mix well to get a smooth manageable batter.  Have a skillet medium hot & put some vegetable oil in pan just enough to prevent sticking.  Have your spatula handy & when the cake shows bubbles & rising turn & brown on other side.  About 2 or 3 tbsps batter makes a nice size pancake.  Experiment and succeed.”

The above was directly quoted from my book of Big Mommy’s Farm Recipes, and it makes me smile.  I especially like the part about vegetable oil: “just enough to prevent sticking.”  You see, my memory of Big Mommy’s pancakes is that they have this ring of crispiness all around the outside.  They were fried.  And to top them?  Well, Big Mommy’s house was the only place where we got squeeze butter, which was fabulous, and there was always cane syrup or fresh palmetto honey.  Mmmmmm……

I truly think this tops Alicia’s blueberry pancakes, but you’re welcome to disagree!

Family Togetherness

I just received the most amazing Facebook message from my mother, and since it fits right along with what I wanted to write about, I’m going to share a piece of it:

“I just needed to reach out to all my kiddos this morning. I love you all and feel so blessed to be your mother.”

I’m feeling the need to reach out this morning too.  I am so, so, so incredibly blessed with a family who loves each other and loves Jesus.  The blessing is a double-edged sword though, when we all live so far apart, and when even those of us who live near each other lead lives that are so separate in the day-to-day.  Isn’t family supposed to stay together, forever?

I told you about my dream of the huge retirement farm.  Part of that dream would be to have parents and siblings and grandparents and nieces and nephews and everyone just living near each other and sharing experiences on a day-in and day-out basis.  Big dreams, huh?  :)   But for now, I have to figure out how to strengthen the “bond of love” that Big Mommy mentioned so frequently, to stay in regular communication with the people I love, so that phone calls and letters and visits aren’t simply massive catch-up sessions, but rather time spent enjoying each other for who we are and loving each other where we are.

That said, here’s a question going to all my family, and to any of the rest of you who have advice: What’s the easiest and best way to make sure we don’t lose touch?

Big Mommy’s Story

“Recall”

or

“As I Look Back”

  “The years come and they go and as I begin to recall the years I realize my 82 years are past the 3 score and 10 promised us in the Word of God.  It’s easy in conversation to recall a few things along but to record your life’s path for these many years takes much stirring up our memories.  However I have been requested to do so by family and I want to please as I have tried many times but just maybe didn’t come up to expectation.”

~ the beginning of Big Mommy’s chronicle

 

I have 63 pages worth of writing sitting in front of me, handwritten by Big Mommy herself over 18 years ago.  She wanted us to have her story, our heritage, and she knew we wanted it too.  There are so many lessons to learn from older generations, and I am so grateful to have this treasure trove from my great-grandmother, who is longer here to share her wisdom in person.  My next several (many?) posts will be of the gems I uncover while reading through her “life’s path.”

Finer Things Friday

Mason Jars

Glass exploded, shattering shards far and wide through the kitchen.  My husband, looking slightly sheepish but mostly pained, held one Mason jar, intact, and one rather dangerous-looking remnant of its twin.  “What happened?”

Well, first of all, that was the wrong question to ask.  Obviously, a glass jar had just turned my kitchen into a warzone.  But what I really wanted to know was, how?  Turns out, he had inadvertently clinked the two jars together as he reached up to open the cabinet.  And very lightly clinked, too, mind you.

Anyway, several shards had embedded themselves into the tops of my husbands feet, so blood mingled with the glass as we tried to clean up.  Both barefooted, it took some time to carefully move away enough to get shoes and finish the job.  Baby Naomi sat in her chair and observed, well out of the path of danger.

That was over a week ago.  So today, I went to unload the dishwasher, felt really sharp (ha-ha) pain in my foot, and found (hopefully) the last remaining piece of that Mason jar.  It went into my foot at least 1/4 of an inch and still hurts.  Thankfully Naomi was, yet again, strapped in her chair.  So, more blood, more clean-up, and lots of hydrogen peroxide later, I am here to write about Mason jars and what they taught me.

Sometimes, we think we’ve hardly “clinked” against someone else, but for some reason, they explode.  Maybe they were feeling vulnerable, or maybe we just inadvertently hit their sweet spot.  Regardless, somehow we shattered them, and probably got cut up a bit ourselves in the process.  Those types of clashes seem unavoidable in life, no matter how hard we try, and when they come around, I guess we just have to sweep up the glass, mop up the blood, and try to disinfect so no bitterness can poison the relationship from here on out.  Then again, weeks later, part of that explosion may come back, just like my little shard this morning.  But, then again too, all we can really do is clean up and heal up and love each other.

If I’ve cracked your Mason jar somehow, I hope you’ll forgive me and let me help to clean up the mess.