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Almost 70 years ago Clyda and Veon were married. That union is why we are all here. This blog is created to capture our thoughts and help us get to know each other better. There will be a new question posted each Sunday until December. Please use contributors first names only. If you are posting anonymously please add your first name to the text. Enjoy!
Please read...
Attention everyone...Marilyn has a WEB PAGE !! You can check it out at www.marilynsmithartist.com!
Nicole, please publish the following disclaimer in a prominent place:
I hesitated to make long narratives with these posts, but Nicole said she might put the whole blog thing into a book form someday, and I could use this as a forum for writing for my kids and grandkids. I can’t pass up an opportunity like that. So rather than bore you, feel free to skip anything you’re not interested in or don’t want to be bothered to read. Sonja
Note from Nicole:
I am happy to do this for anybody that is interested. I am enjoying hearing from each of you and would love to hear from more. Thanks Sonja for taking the time to work on this and giving us an opportunity to get to know you better.
Kids from Lt to Rt:Marilyn, Barbara, Veon Jr., Gladys, Gerald, Evan. Clyda and Veon in the Middle.
Sonja
Ve's Wife
Nicole
Glady's Youngest
Marilyn
The Youngest Daughter
Evan
"The Baby"
Daphne
Glady's Oldest
Clyda
4 comments:
One of my favorite meals was "Goop". A noodle caserole that had hamburger, corn peas and whatever else.
The worst: Let me comment on something that wasn't a dinner. The "juice", or liquid who knows what that would appear in the fridge disguised as orange juice.
When Star Trek became a reality, its origin became clearer.
Clyda always made me Cream Krab for my birthday. It was my favorite. I didn't have a least favorite but because it was just the two of us she only had me 'impress'. She was a much better cook than I was accustomed to at my other grandma's so maybe that is why I wasn't too picky. One thing that she did that I complained about was put butter on my sandwiches for my lunch. Now that I am making lunches for my kids by slapping peanut butter on stale bread and throwing it in a bag 5 minutes before the bus gets her I slap myself on a regular basis for complaining about the butter on a tuna sandwich with home canned pickles and red leafed lettuce.
Mmmm, Grandma's sandwiches were the best! All of my friends had the slapped on peanut butter type sandwiches . . . most of them did their own peanut butter spreading by high school. I had lunchmeat with red leaf lettuce, home-canned pickles, mayo, mustard, and probably some butter too, on a Dan's Rosette roll with sesame seeds. I miss those days every time I throw together a sandwich.
I also liked the creamed crab (in fact, I had it for dinner just the other day) and twice baked potatoes.
Grandma M. wins the worst meal award with boiled hamburgers. I still shudder at the thought of that one.
We used to feed the missionaries a lot - that’s one reason we raised chickens. Mother would make huge fried chicken dinners with mashed potatoes and vegetables and salad from our garden. She would kill sometimes as many as five chickens at a time. I watched her pick them up as if they were tame. She would hold them by the feet, stretch their necks out on a big, old sawed off tree stump and swing the ax with the other hand, almost in one motion. Then she’d toss the headless chickens into the tall grass where they would flop around splattering blood for a while. Then she’d dip them into a tub of hot water so the feathers would come off easier. (I’ve done my share of plucking wet hens)! When she cut them open there would be eggs at various stages of formation. Some were double yoked. She would boil the giblets (daddy liked the gizzard, of all things!)
I loved her biscuits! She would slap them in hot bacon grease, both sides, before she put them on the pan. We had no idea how artery clogging all that pig fat and butter and cream were. But that’s part of why everything she made was so good. She could even bake a cake in a wood-burning stove! Sonja
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