Friday, November 7, 2008

Memory Lane...

Thanks for all the advice on fake butter. But come on now. Although fake butter is alright it's still not the real thing. And unfortunately I was raised on the real thing. I think our alias was the Buttertons. There was NEVER a stick (remember I was raised in the olden days) of the fake stuff in the fridge. When Mom would make a recipe that called for margarine she used BUTTER. When it called for crisco (later on) she used BUTTER flavored crisco. I use the fake stuff now but it just doesn't compare to the real stuff. I have found that Land O Lakes Light Butter has the flavor that is almost like it but it is still a little off. And I've learned to like my corn on the cob with the I Can't Believe It's Not Butter spray. But I really miss the real stuff.

Talking about the "olden days" I'm going to take a little of Charlie's advice when I have writer's block. But instead of talking about Pizza I'm gonna reminisce a little. So if you don't want to walk down memory lane with me to can skip the next part.

My grandmother practically raised me since Mom was divorced (a couple of times) and she was the sole bread winner. I stayed with Butsy during the week and with Mom on the weekends. I'm told that my grandmother wanted to be called Mutsy but as a little tyke I couldn't pronounce my M's very well and she became Butsy. One of my fondest memories was picnics in her front yard. When I was having a bad day (as she later told me) she'd decide to have a picnic to cheer me up. She'd take one of her "picnic" blankets out in the front yard and spread it out. I'd help her carry plates (they didn't have the paper kind back then) and cups outside and wait while she prepared our wonderful picnic. The one I remember the most vividly was grilled cheese sandwiches and (homemade) vegetable soup. As we would set on the blanket nibbling away we'd talk about the (imaginary) forest around us and the (imaginary) critters we could see. We'd see grand oaks and sycamores with little mitten leaves. We'd see squirrels and foxes frolicking around the trees and beautiful red, orange and yellow flowers. When all that was done, I'd be ready for my nap and she could breath a sigh of relief (I'm sure).

Hope you enjoyed a little snippet of my past.


--cara said...

Hey, that's my great-grandmother! Isn't she beautiful!?!?

I didn't know that about the picnic story. You need to tell me more stories like that. You should start another blog and write down little stories like that from your childhood. What a great legacy to leave for me and "N" (and her little ones in the distant future).

You wouldn't need to make it public if you wanted to share intimate little stories. You could make it by invitation only and invite your closest bloggers, if you wanted.

I remember having a picnic with my mother on the beach. She made homemade pimento cheese spread sandwiches and we put ruffles potato chips inbetween the cheese spread and the bread and crunched our way through these yummy sandwiches.

Thanks so much for sharing!!

Me want more!!

Cammy said...

Oooh, I loved this memory lane trip. It was like being there.

For cara's memory, I kind of WAS there. We used to have my Dad's homemade pimiento cheese and I always crushed a few chips to put on top. :)

Great. Now I'm wanting pimiento cheese. Can someone please have a salad memory? :)

grammy said...

What a great and sweet memory. I have a blog entry written (on notebook paper) called, 'Crow Picnic'. It is about my tiny baby daughter having a picnic and a giant crow landing beside her. I will post it some day (o:

Sparky said...

very sweet! :)

JC said...

How sweet, I liked reading about your memory. Well as for the real butter. I was raise on it as well and on bacon grease (lots of bacon grease). My Daddy was a self-employed cold miner. Some of his pay was in barter. One time he brought home a huge amount of butter that he had taken in trade for a load of coal. Anyway, just cause I was raise on bacon grease doesn't mean I eat it now. UGH!! I can't even imagine having real butter in my house. But you just can't get a good grill cheese with fake butter.