Fifty-Two Pies

Reblog of an old post of mine

Nutsrok

I love a well-stocked pantry.  It makes me feel good to can and freeze food so that I can pull out good, wholesome “fast food” to serve at a moment’s notice.  My husband, Bud loves pie.  One summer, we had a bumper crop of butternut squash, so I reasoned it would be a great idea to make some of these up into pies and freeze them.  I rolled

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Hilarious Obituary That Has Circled the Globe

Obituary
  • “Sincere condolences on your loss. Sounds like Mary and my…”
  • “Wow – she sounds like quite a lady – determined right to…”
    – Gini Jonassen
  • “This is the perfect obituary! It’s wicked sweet and more…”
    – Connie Staley
  • “Oh wow! What a wonderful tribute to your mom. I wish I had…”
    – Urs D’Asti
  • “Well done. That’s the best tribute I’ve read. You sound…”
    – Lynn Lineham

STOCKS, Mary Patricia (nee Morris) —

Pat Stocks, 94, passed away peacefully at her home in bed July 1, 2015. It is believed it was caused from carrying her oxygen tank up the long flight of stairs to her bedroom that made her heart give out. She left behind a hell of a lot of stuff to her daughter and sons who have no idea what to do with it. So if you’re looking for 2 extremely large TV’s from the 90s, a large ceramic stork (we think) umbrella/cane stand, a toaster oven (slightly used) or even a 2001 Oldsmobile with a spoiler (she loved putting the pedal to the metal), with only 71,000 kilometers and 1,000 tools that we aren’t sure what they’re used for. You should wait the appropriate amount of time and get in touch. Tomorrow would be fine. This is not an ad for a pawn shop, but an obituary for a great Woman, Mother, Grandmother and Great-Grandmother born on May 12, 1921 in Toronto, the daughter of the late Pop (Alexander C.) and Granny (Annie Nigh) Morris. She leaves behind a very dysfunctional family that she was very proud of. Pat was world-renowned for her lack of patience, not holding back her opinion and a knack for telling it like it is. She always told you the truth even if it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. It was the school of hard knocks and yes we were told many times how she had to walk for miles in a blizzard to get to school, so suck it up. With that said she was genuine to a fault, a pussy cat at heart (or lion) and yet she sugar coated nothing. Her extensive vocabulary was more than highly proficient at knowing more curse words than most people learned in a lifetime. She liked four letter words as much as she loved her rock garden and trust us she LOVED to weed that garden with us as her helpers, when child labour was legal or so we were told. These words of encouragement, wisdom, and sometimes comfort, kept us in line, taught us the “school of hard knocks” and gave us something to pass down to our children. Everyone always knew where you stood with her. She liked you or she didn’t, it was black or white. As her children we are still trying to figure out which one it was for us (we know she loved us). She was a master cook in the kitchen. She believed in overcooking everything until it chewed like rubber so you would never get sick because all germs would be nuked. Freezing germs also worked, so by Friday our school sandwiches were hard and chewy, but totally germ free. All four of us learned to use a napkin. You would pretend to cough, spit the food into it and thus was born the Stocks diet. If anyone would like a copy of her homemade gravy, we would suggest you don’t. She will be sorely missed and survived by her brother George Morris, children: Shauna (Stocks) Perreault, Paul/Sandy (Debbie) Stocks and Kirk Stocks, son-in-law Ian Milnes and son from another mother, John McCleery, grandchildren: Lesley (Sean), Lindsay (Lucas), Ashley (James), David (Tia), Brett, Erin (Brian), Sean, Alex, Courtney and Taylor and great-grandchildren: Connor, Emily, Ainsley, Tyler and Jack. She was preceded in death by her loving husband Paul (Moo) Stocks and eldest daughter Shelley (Stocks) Milnes and beloved pets Tag, Tag, Tag and Tag. All whom loved her dearly and will never forget her tenacity, wit, charm, grace (when pertinent) and undying love and caring for them. Please give generously to covenanthousetoronto.ca “in memory”. A private family ‘Celebration of Life’ will be held, in lieu of a service, due to her friends not being able to attend, because they decided to beat her to the Pearly Gates. Please note her change of address to her new place of residence, St John’s York Mills Anglican Church, 19 Don Ridge Drive, 12 doors away from Shelley’s place.

Published in the Toronto Star on July 18, 2015

– See more at: http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/thestar/obituary.aspx?pid=175314461#sthash.KFs6Uqb4.dpuf

Evening Chuckle

A father of three beautiful daughters, being a good father, always liked to meet their dates before they went out. On this particular sat. evening all three had dates, when the first one arrived the father opened the door, he was a nice looking young man, and he said, good evening sir, my name is Eddy i’m here to pick up Betty we’re going out for spaghetti is she ready? The father called Betty and they left. When second one arrived the father opened the door, the young man said, hello sir my name is Joe i’m here to pick up Flo — we’re going to the show can she go? So the father called Flo and they left. When the third one finely arrived, the father opened the door to a rather scruffy looking young man. and the boy said my name is Chuck… so the father shot him.

Heartbreaking Story of the Red-Headed Baby

babyprint1xAccording to gossip, Redheaded Connie and Callie were reputed to have been left on their Pentecostal aunt’s doorstep at birth. This fascinating tidbit guaranteed my interest.  I imagined them lying in a basket, long waist-length braids dangling from a basket, dusting the ground. They were high-school girls when I was in first grade, so I never gave them much thought beyond that. Continue reading

Ask Auntie Linda, August 19, 2015

Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  I am in an awkward situation.  My mother is in her sixties and should be retired.  I have two siblings who are freeloaders.  I know Mother has mortgaged her home to subsidize them.  About every three or four months she comes to me for money when she is in deep financial trouble.  I can’t let her lose her home, but it is infuriating to be in the position of having to continually bail her out because she has bailed them out.  She is secretive about why she needs the money, of course.  I can’t afford this, but she won’t consider discussing her financial situation with me. My wife and I have two small children and need every penny.  This is causing a lot of strife in our marriage.  Feeling the Pinch

Dear Pinch,  Your responsibility to your own family and loyalty to your marriage must come first.  It is not acceptable to expect your spouse to subsidize your mother in this way nor is it reasonable for your mother expect ongoing help.  If your mother asks help again and you feel it is something you want to consider doing, she needs to be open about her situation.  It is never a good idea to loan to family.  If you can’t afford to give the money, you probably need to think really hard.  You need to know exactly what you are working with should you decide to help.  Auntie Linda

Dear Auntie Linda,  I am in charge of laundry at our house.  I go to the laundromat at six a.m., wash and while it is drying, go just down the block for coffee.  This worked fine, till I noticed I was running low on underwear.  Maybe somebody was stealing our stuff while I went for breakfast. The next washday I counted every item before putting it in to dry and going for breakfast.  No one was there when I left.  One pair of underwear was missing when I got back.  My girlfriend laughed at me, insisting I had miscounted and that it was hilarious to think anybody would want my old underwear. You would have thought she might have shown a little sympathy, or concern, or something.  I am a guy and I have feelings.  Besides, I don’t want to buy underwear.  I can count and know somebody got my underwear.  I counted and watched again the next week.  Somehow, it happened again, with me watching for the culprit. When I got home, my girlfriend was thrilled, thinking this is high comedy.  Now I have to sit and guard my stuff.  Every time a woman walks by, I have to wonder, is she the perverted underwear bandit?  Almost Commando

Dear Commando,  Excuse me, have you ever considered equal opportunity?  Your bandito could just as well be a man!!! He He I mean Her Her (sorry)  Auntie Linda

Joke of the Day

A man went into the lingerie department to buy his wife a bra.  “What kind do you want?”

“What kind?  Do you mean there are kinds?” he looked around at the sea of bras, feeling hopeless.

“Well yes.  There are many kinds, but they can actually be grouped into four classes.  First there’s the Catholic Bra.  It’s designed to lift the masses.  Then there’s the Salvation Army Bra.  It’s designed to lift the fallen.  Then comes the Presbyterian Bra.  It keeps them staunch and upright.  Finally we have the Baptist Bra.  It makes mountains out of molehills.