A trip back in time.

My mother taught me that you can do any
number of amazing things with washed out vegetable cans.
Mom liked to use liquid starch and vegetable cans
to position her fancy doilies just so.
These doilies were huge and star shaped.
She would attach the soaked in starch
doily points to the cans with clothes pins until they were dry.
When completely dry they would stand at attention for weeks.
You were not allowed to touch them, wet or dry.
I was always amazed at the time this single mother
of 5 spent in making sure those points were just right.

She also made the best brown bread in those cans.
What that woman could do with soaked raisins and
a fab bread recipe was amazing.
Fresh from the oven, they would have risen over
the edge of the can, a mountain peak of goodness.
She would pull the bread out and slather those
cut slices in butter.
Pure heaven.

Years ago, neighbors knew each other,
liked each other and wanted to spend
time together. They talked over fences and
reprimanded your kids with each others permission.
Kids referred to these parents as Mr. and Mrs.
Respect was there. Occasionally they had blowout
block parties. Complete with massive grills made
out of 55 gallon drums on their sides. Food was
plentiful, a dish or three to pass was expected.
Kids ran playing hide and seek, stop and go
and Simon says. Parents drank more than they ever should.
Often doing truly stupid things as a result.
Once all the men took a VW bug and hoisted it
over a non participating neighbors foot high picket fence.

Late at night my sisters and I would lay in bed as the party
continued outside, listening, learning,
wishing we hadn’t been sent to bed..
Someone’s mom came in to use the bathroom singing Mona Lisa
at the top of her lungs. She got just two lines of the words
‘Mona Lisa’ out before blowing her nose in a god awful manner.
My sister and I laughed for hours.

Mom would occasionally get drunk and remove her dentures.
Chasing us around the yard with them in her hands
clapping them together and screaming.
Some kids were truly scared.
I knew it just one of mom’s odd little things.

She ironed everything.
For hours she stood behind her ironing board.
Before the days of steam irons she used an
old coke bottle filled with water and a sprinkler
top attached.
We didn’t have much, but what we did have was ironed,
cleaned and starched to perfection.

My Mother and her friends played canasta for hours.
I was usually found by the table side
instead of outside playing with the other kids.
I loved listening to their stories.
Bantering back and forth as the gallons of
cheap wine loosened their mouths and their reserve.
I learned a lot at that table, but nothing of canasta.
Eventually they would join the children outside
with their bottle of wine.
They would hide it when the police drove by.

Mom loved food, and being a single parent on a tight budget,
she bought in bulk. We had a massive freezer in the
garage to hold it all.
Gallons and gallons of milk were bought on sale.
We would open each one and empty a portion out of the
top to allow for expansion in the freezer.
Occasionally we would go to the Dolly Madison store and
stock up on day old breads and sweet cakes.
God I loved those small pies. Those were the best times.

Mom bought in bulk long after the kids were gone.
She watched sale ads religiously.
Huge packages of toilet paper stashed about was the norm.
More meat than she alone could ever eat,
stored safely in that freezer.
She was the first to offer her home for any occasion.
Always making it work on a budget.
Feeding others was common for her, but she often
complained on being taken advantage of.

I had a pogo stick when I was young.
I rode that bouncy stick everywhere I went.
My sister hopped on it one day and mistakenly
hit a patch of oil on the street.
Mom had to leave work. This was something that was never done.
It was a true emergency. Damage to her mouth
is still visible today.

I found a pup on the street one day.
Being a child of a do it yourself mother,
who was taught to be ingenious in solving little problems,
I decided that the lack of a leash could be solved
if I cut the elastic off all my big girl panties.
I tied them together and made a smashing little leash for my new pet.
Now mind you I had no permission to have a pet.
Mom had no money or desire to acquire new panties for me either.
I did not get to keep the pup.
I wore saggy panties for a long time.

Mom left us with Miss Dewitt while she worked,
a old and grey lady with many kids.
She had an industrial sized padlock on her fridge.
Once her daughter Vicki made me eat a raw onion.
Because she was mean. I hate Vicki and onions to this day.

Later my brother was old enough to keep us after
school while mom worked. He wasn’t equipped for the job.
He would make me cry, it was easy to do.
Then he would lay in his room and scream,
“cry and little louder, I cant hear you”.
I did.

My Godmothers name was Mary.
She smoked unfiltered Lucky Strikes that she kept
in a hanging case on the kitchen wall.
Throughout the day she could be seen using her
thumb and fourth finger to remove loose tobacco
from her tongue. Her husband had a trucking route.
He delivered candy. Her cabinets had Look Bars in them.
I adored my time with Mary.

Memories…a nice morning of remembering.
Feeling stronger physically.
This is a good thing.