Miss Laura Mae’s House Part 14

I had been waiting all summer for Miss Laura Mae’s dewberries to ripen.  For weeks we had strolled down to check the progress of the berry patch right behind her barn.  She said berries loved manure.  It’s hard to imagine how anything loving something so stinky, but I couldn’t wait till they turned black.  While I was sneaking a couple to sample, her old dog sauntered up and lifted his leg on the bushes, convincing me of the value of soap and water.  I hoped they loved pee, too, ‘cause they’d just gotten a healthy dose.

Finally, one morning, she spread me two hot biscuits with fresh dewberry jam.  “I kept these biscuits hot just for you.  I wanted them to be just right for this jam.”  I don’t know that I’ve ever had anything better than those hot biscuits and that heavenly dewberry jam so sweet and tangy it almost made my jaws ache. 

“Oh, this is so good.”  I licked the jam that spilled to my fingers.

“It’s my favorite.  I’ll give you a jar to take home with you,” she promised.  “Don’t let me forget!”

“I won’t let you forget!  And no one else can have any of my special jam,” I blurted out in my greed.

“Well, maybe I better give you two jars so everybody gits a taste.” I could tell she was trying not to laugh.

 That seemed like a tragic waste of jam, but answered.  “Yes, ma’am.”  In my gluttonous imagination, I’d envisioned myself sitting cross-legged on the kitchen floor, eating jam with a spoon straight from the jar.  Mother must have read my mind, because those jars found their way to the top shelf of the cabinet with the honey, coconut flakes, and brown sugar as soon as we got home.  I’d learned from sad experience, stuff on the top shelf was emphatically off-limits.  Not two weeks ago, I’d nearly broken my molars chomping down on white rice straight from the package, thinking I’d found coconut somehow left in reach.  When I was settled safely on the back steps with my messy snack, the conversation began.

“Well, how was your trip to Myrtle’s?” Mother began.  “I sure missed having coffee with you in the mornings.”

“Ooh, I did too!  It was fine, but I sure was glad to get home.  Myrtle’s a good woman, but she’s got kind’a snooty since she married Joe Jackson an’ he’s got a little somethin’.  Well, I guess she always was a touch snooty.  Mama always said her mama had her nose in the air.  I guess Myrtle got it from her.  She sure didn’t get it from me.  Anyhow, me an’ Myrtle didn’ coffee in the kitchen even one time.  Wednesday, while Myrtle was a’gittin’ her hair done, I slipped out an’ helped Thelma, the woman that comes in to help a couple of days a week. I got to know her last time I was there.   I cleaned the refrigerator an’ stove while Thelma was a’ironin’ so we had a fine visit.   Then I made sure the back door was locked and me an’ Thelma sat a few minutes an’ had coffee.  I probably wouldn’a had to lock the door with that yappy little dog o’ Myrtle’s, but I sure didn’ want Thelma to git caught a’settin an’ a’gittin’ in trouble on my account.   I’d brung her a pound cake from home ‘cause I remembered how much she loved the one I’d brought Myrtle the last time.  They are so much richer made with yard eggs and homemade butter.  Yeah, I always thought a lot o’ Thelma.  We had a fine visit.”

 

https://nutsrok.wordpress.com/2016/04/30/miss-laura-maes-house-part-13/

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Evening Chuckle

Fancy Dan, the Coffee Man

We splurged and bought a Fancy Dan coffee maker in 1987.  It was heavenly staggering into the kitchen to find a carafe of freshly made coffee waiting at five in the morning.  True love!  We enjoyed it precisely one month before we got a recall notice and a gift certificate for a replacement to use while we waited for the fine new Fancy Dan.  It seems the original was setting houses on fire.

We went into mourning and trashed Fancy Dan, picking up his replacement, a very plain model.  About a year later, our new Fancy Dan arrived.  Dan had our steaming coffee waiting when we awoke.  All we had to do was “sasser and blow it.”  It saved our marriage.  Alas, a mere six joyful months later we received word that this model was also likely to be an arsonist.  Out came the plain old replacement model till we made it to the store with our gift certificate for a new pot.

Since1987, that faithful coffee-maker has one back on the shelf six times, only to be called back into service when the fancy new one failed.  Less than a month ago, we were once again seduced by a coffee-maker with lots of great features.  It had a water filter, reuseable basket instead of filters, several cup size settings, and a beeper to let us know when coffee was brewed.  Of course, it would have our coffee ready when we got up, which by now, we had no intention of using, having no wish to roast in our bed.

We hurried home and moved Old Faithful back to the shelf.  We couldn’t wait for the first pot.  As soon as we hit the brew button, water poured all over the counter.  We reseated the pot and tried again.  We were rewarded with a second gusher.

Old Faithful went right back to work.  When I’m gone, my kids can draw straws to see who gets Old Faithful.  The loser gets the family fortune.

Joke of he Day

Help! Help! Coffee Needed!

Terrifying incident this morning.  I couldn’t find my coffee pot.  Clearly, a sadist had broken in and robbed us, taking the most precious item in the house, cruelly leaving behind the coffee, the coffee maker, cream, and sugar.  I checked the dishwasher, refrigerator, sink, and pantry, before finally finding it in the cabinet where I store the cups.  By this time, my coffee was way overdue.  My heart still hasn’t settled down.