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rom Eureka, our family moved to Howard, Kansas, where both of my parents
had been born and where they had lived all their lives before going to
El Dorado. My grandfather had died, but grandmother still lived there,
as did several aunts and uncles, so life was very happy with lots of
family activities. Some of our activities centered on the Methodist
Church. Dad sang in the Methodist Choir. Once the choir was preparing
some special music, an oratorio, I believe. Dad was one of the soloists
and did some practicing at home. When he would come to the line, "I will
lift up my eyes unto the hills," I would join in and sing along with
him. But I don't believe I did this in church at the actual performance
at least not very loudly. For several years this was a family joke, but
I'm not sure it really happened. |
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here were so many interesting things to do. In the evening, the whole
family would play cards. Rook was my favorite game, but Old Maid was
also fun.
here was greater communication between the generations then before radio
and TV. I recall evenings when we would all gather around the dining
room table piled high with cracked black walnuts. We would all pick out
the walnut kernels as we talked and laughed. Mother often made fudge in
the evening and, of course, popcorn. Dad or Bob would suggest to Mother
"How about making some c-a-n-d-y." It didn't take long for me to catch
on to this. Soon I was asking for N-C-Y. There was a period of time in
our family when fudge was called N-C-Y.
omemade ice-cream was a special treat. Mother cooked the custard
filling, and Dad would freeze it in a hand-cranked freezer. When it was
nearly frozen and the handle became hard to turn, Dad would put a little
rug on top of the freezer and have me sit on it. This increased his
leverage on the handle. This ice-cream had to be consumed before the ice
and rock salt in which it was packed had melted since we had no electric
freezer in which to store leftovers. No problem! We ate dish after dish
of that heavenly stuff until our tongues were numb and we were
thoroughly sated. Homemade ice-cream is meant to be savored. It should
be eaten slowly, allowing each spoonful to melt in the mouth, spreading
that creamy sweet flavor to every taste bud.
ad was an avid fisherman, and sometime we would take a picnic lunch and
go with him to the river. Sunday family dinners with our relatives were
also a treat. I liked to go to Dad's brother Bate's house to eat, not
only because the food was good, but because
Dad and his brother joked with each other constantly; there was lots of
laughing. Without fail, some time during these visits Uncle Bate would
perform his magic act and find a nickel in my ear.
ach visit to the relatives brought a different activity to enthrall a
small child. At Uncle Bate's there was a box of miniature dolls with
tiny dresses, a reminder of my older cousins who had played with them
and then outgrown them. These were to be handled very carefully. At Aunt
Ethel's (Dad's sister), I loved playing with her button collection. Aunt
Ethel had a lifetime collection of buttons which she kept in a cloth bag
with a drawstring top. she let me dump the buttons out on the floor
where they could be sorted and counted or arranged by color. No amount
of mess ever fazed Aunt Ethel.
hen I went to the farm to see Norval and Ethel, there was no end of new
experiences. I could help Norval shell corn forthe chickens. I tried and
failed to milk the cow. I scattered feed for the chickens and helped
gather eggs. I marveled as the cream rose on the crocks of fresh milk to
be skimmed off for butter. The farm was a delight.
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t Aunt Sarah's I was somewhat spoiled; what I wanted, I got. she kept a
candy jarfull of delightful little candy sticks: thin, twisted, shiney
confections. There was always a bowl of mixed nuts to be cracked and
savored. She would make a pitcher of lemonade which we liked to take to
the front porch for our tea hour no limit to the amount of lemonade
drank. At mealtime Aunt Sarah cooked whatever I wanted to eat. It was
there I first discovered pork chops, and that was my idea of a perfect
meal. Some times I went home from Aunt Sarah's with a queasy stomach,
which Mother always understood as she, herself, as a child had been
allowed to eat all the bananas she wanted another victim of Aunt Sarah's
generosity.