Re-Post - History in the Cellar

History in the Cellar

The cellar was dark, dank and smelled of old spider webs and mold. There was a light. One bare lightbulb hung from one corner of the raftered ceiling. Octavia felt every bit of her age. The basement stairs seem to get longer and more rickety each day. Octavia did not want to descend into the old dirt cellar. She remembered playing there as a young child amid fruit jars and behind the potato bin. There were still things stored down there from that time that were probably all mildewed and wrinkled with the damp. 

But she had to find it. She knew which corner it was in and remembered how, seventy years before on her tenth birthday where she had hidden it. It was almost time to pass it on to the next generation as it had been passed to her on that special birthday. To anyone else it would have meant nothing but in her family it was as precious as any diamond.

Her neighbour of the last many decades, Mrs. Agnes Appleby - such a stuck up name - had gotten tired of hearing about this piece of family history with no name and no form. Agnes had dared Miss Octavia Watterson to produce it and prove its existence. Today, Octavia decided was the day she would prove to Agnes that it was real. But, half way down the stairs, Octavia hesitated. What if it wasn’t very precious at all? What if her ten year old mind had made it bigger than it really was? And why hadn’t she gotten it out before?

Taking a deep breath, Octavia took another step down the stairs. She fingered the key she had hung around her neck. The little silver key that would open the box where her treasure lay. Determined to challenge her ten year old self,  and Agnes, Octavia stood on a low stool to reach back into the far corner of the old cupboard and pulled out a small metal box. Removing the key from around her neck she inserted it into the lock. The lock popped open as though expecting that today was the right day. And there it lay. A ordinary sized envelope  yellowed with age labelled Watterson Family History. The glue dried on the seal so the flap opened easily. Octavia took out two sheafs of paper. In a spidery hand it read, ‘To whomever reads this recipe know that it  holds family history.’ Octavia was sick with disappointment. A recipe! What would Agnes think of this!  But no, Octavia would show her, despite any ridicule that might come her way

Up in the kitchen, with a cup of tea she continued to read. ‘Peppered Venison Sausage’ is the title my great great grandfather gave to this recipe. Each generation that has made it has had different ingredients and spices. The ingredients are incidental to this recipe. What is important is that making this requires a hunt for ingredients, preparing the ingredients, cooking the finished product and sitting down to a family meal to enjoy it all.

Octavia had regrets and knew why she had kept the precious recipe? The love of her life had left her before they married. She had never been brave enough to share this kitchen tradition with anyone else. Octavia smiled when she realized that Agnes would be pleased with this treasure. Agnes and Octavia had helped to grind the meat and mix in the spices when they were children, in the kitchen with family all around. Agnes would, however, be certain to be a bit disparaging about the vegetarians of the world that 'would miss out'. And then Octavia would say that although their gathering of ingredients would probably be different, they would still share in wonderful kitchen family times. Every family has their own ideas.

“A personal journey is part of the generational relay. 

Live your legacy then pass it on.”

~ Jo Ann V. Glim (author

Authors note: I wrote and posted History in the Cellar November 20, 2016 with some minor edits. Reading it again, I recognized a nod to a recipe, a piece family memory, that has been lost.

(Still not feeling up to writing anything new tonight.)

A Cold Day

 

What ideas do I have tonight? If I have any they have been tossed in the trash with crumpled tissues, or settled into cosy blankets, or brewed with tea ’til it cooled. Napping and binge watching old N.C.I.S. TV shows has been the order of the day. I did rouse myself when hunger told me to. My best idea today: scrambled eggs with fried potatoes, onion, red pepper flakes, garlic powder and a good amount of grated parmesan satisfied my cravings for food.

“My dear doctor, I’m surprised to hear you say that I am coughing

 very badly, because I have been practising all night.”

~ John Philpot Curran

Hens and Chicks

A wanna be gardener, to be like many in my farming family, I do keep trying. Still haven’t adjusted to container gardening. It seems so confining! These 8 Hens and Chicks had been confined to a very small pot that I purchased late this summer. Don’t know what my idea was, but I’ve always loved these little succulents. Today, I spread a Canadian Tire flyer on my cupboard and freed them, dirt and all. They were getting increasingly dry, not to mention crowded. Once I separated them all out I found the mother plant and provided a separate pot away from the crowd of kids she had around her. Right now they all look quite happy in there new and spacious homes. Now to see if I can keep them all alive and healthy! 

"Gardening is learning, learning, learning. 

That's the fun of them. You're always learning." 

~ Helen Mirren

Chapter Two, Episode 162 - Ben and Abby - Situationally Theirs

“I don’t have any ideas, mom!” Ben Richardson, Martha’s grandson was poring over the brochures he brought home from the Junior Career Day. “This is dumb. Everyone’s always asking me what I’m going to do when I get out of high school and I don’t start high school til next year, anyway. Then it’s four years. Why do I need to figure this out now?” He pushed then all aside, scraped his chair back from the table. “Is supper ready yet? I’m hungry. Where’s Abby?” 

His mom, Joanie Richardson, at the stove, just smiled. “I didn’t set it up, honey. They have that every year at the school and I suppose it’s just to give all of you some things to think about. No one is telling you to make any decisions now. Just put the brochures away in your desk and if you want to contact any of them you’ll have their phone numbers.”

“I guess I could look them up if they’ve got websites. Like police or the ambulance people.” Joanie grimaced. She was hoping he’d do something safer, but wouldn’t start giving him her own doubts. “Or maybe I’ll be a gardener or a butler. Then I wouldn’t have to leave home ~ I could stay here with you!!”

Laughing out loud, she said “Ben, you would have to leave home and you’d also have to apply for a job here. Just because your grandmother is the housekeeper and does all the hiring doesn’t mean you’d be a shoo in for the job. And Digby would have to approve your application as well.”

With a moan he said “I’ll set the table. Where is Abby? It’s her night to set the table. Now she’ll have to wash all the dishes. Why would I have to leave home?”

“Didn’t you know that Samuel has his degree in Agriculture and Digby went away for schooling as well. I don’t know where he went, but right now he’s away at a conference for his profession.”

“Well, I don’t really like school and it’s getting harder. More homework. I never like getting all dirty like Samuel and if I had to go to school that would be really weird.”

Hearing the front door, Ben called out to his sister. “Is that you Abby? You have to wash dishes tonight because I set the table. You weren’t here to do your job.”

“Ben, the older you get the bossier you get. You used to be a really good brother, but you must have bonked your head on something. I don’t care if I do the dishes tonight. You don’t do a good job of it anyway.” She hung her coat up and put her books on the front hall table. “Mom how can you stand him!”

Joanie just smiled at her unruly children. “You two stop bickering. Supper's ready. Abby, wash your hands before you come to the table. How was your piano lesson?  Are you still liking piano? If you and Ben can ever get along you’ll be able to play together. Piano and guitar are beautiful together.”

“I don’t know, mom. If he doesn’t stop being mean to me I don’t know if I want to even talk to him.” She sat down and helped herself to the salad. 

“Is that all you’re going to eat, Abby dear?” Her mother was worried about her daughter. She never seemed to want to eat anything but salads. “Oh all right, mom.” She took a teaspoon of potatoes, a small piece meatloaf. But pushed them aside. Ben, on the other hand, made up for his sister. He loaded his plate with potatoes and meatloaf, and one leaf of lettuce, poured gravy over it all and dug in. “Yes, mom I do like piano. Mr. Reynolds lets me stay after school so Mrs. Olsen can give me my lessons on his gorgeous piano. Do you think we can get a piano here?”

“I don’t know honey. But until we do, you may be able to practice on Miss Emelina’s piano. But only if your grandma is there and Miss Emelina says it’s ok.”

The rest of their meal was silent. Joanie was always amazed when the bickering slowed down when their stomachs were full. Dessert, a staple in the Richardson’s household, was one of Cook’s apple pies. Abby’s diet of raw foods didn’t extend to her Auntie Cook’s pies. “Just a sliver, please mom. I’ll do more exercise tomorrow.” Joanie couldn’t help herself. “Abby you’re only 9 years old! Please be careful with what you’re doing.” 

“I will, mom. I am. I just don’t want to get fat. The girls at school, at least some to them, are always worried about getting ugly.”

Ben had heard enough. He scraped up the last of his pie, put his dishes in the sink and disappeared to his room. “Homework.” 

“Abby, listen to everyone. Not just the popular girls. That’s it, isn’t it? The popular girls aren’t really all that popular to everyone. What I do want you to do is find out what your own body needs to be healthy.” Joanie remembered when Abby had been working with Miss Dez in the summer in the orchard and with the bees. “Remember this summer? The apple trees need certain nutrition, the bees need a different kind of nutrition. We’re no different. You like to study. Study the human body, especially for children. Then make your own decision about what your body needs.”

Abby didn’t look convinced of anything other than the worried look on her mother’s face. “Ok, mom, but until I find out differently, I’ll keep being careful what I eat.” She hugged her mother. “I’m all right, mom.” She cleared the table, washed and put away the supper things. The conversation was over. For that night.

“The good news is that your child has a natural desire to do well. 

Our job as parent is to bring out this quality and cherish it 

until the day your kids leave home, and then some.”

~ Marlene Targ Brill, author

On an Afternoon Walk ~ Bright Spots

A short walk, I just went around the block. Employees happy to walk to their cars; traffic picking up at the end of the day. A street over, it was quieter. Snow and ice melted in the warmer temperature. A patch or two remained, too thick to melt. Puddles of muddy water where once had been slush and ice. Just about home, bright yellow caught my eye, almost hidden from view. Two crinkly flowers and some faded greenery tucked between the main bush and the brick fence reminded me that life does continue, even though things this world look brown and devoid of life.

 

“There are just as many stories to be told in 

the dark spots as there are in the bright ones.”

~ Jodi Picoult

At 2 a.m.

 In a waking dream, 

sky colours of happy places

~ sunrise or sunset ~ 

peach, mauve or soft yellow, 

thin gilded clouds drifted

 ‘til eyes drooped and I slept.

“for then what wouldst thou know, flitting ‘twixt waking and sleep.”

~ Stewart Stafford, author

On an Afternoon Walk - A Snow Capped Pumpkin

What a fun idea for a Jack-o'-Lantern! I took this photo two days ago on my way to an appointment. This poor fellow must have been frightened by the dump of snow from earlier in the week. I did think he looked quite jaunty with his snowy cap. Today, I walked past him again on my way to a bookstore. The weather has warmed significantly so he’s lost his cap but still looks worried - maybe it's that spider. I didn’t tell him that Hallowe’en is over.

“Jack-o’-lantern, Jack-o’-lantern. You are such a funny sight.”

~ Jack-o’-lantern Hallowe’en Song