25/05/2013
It’s early like 5:45am early. The kid heard me coughing and was convinced it was the get up and go
siren.
Today is The Ladies Event in Crucita. If you are lucky enough to live here and are
a girl you get to go every month to The Ladies Event. We celebrate the last
Saturday of every month. You can even
come to “The Event” if you are visiting Crucita. We are sweethearts and always on our best
behavior. Ja Ja (spanish for Ha Ha) If
you’re here for anytime at all you know that is not entirely true. But we try.
To be admitted you should bring a covered dish, this is not
a requirement but a good idea. Now this
covered dish is expected to look yummy and smell good. That way you get kudos and the girls want you
to come back next month. We share white
elephant gifts towards the end of this get together. You would be so impressed to see what gets
exchanged and you soon learn who your friends are. You better not get something good or one of
those selfish women will take it away from you.
They are sooo sweet. I hate to do
this but, there it is, you know what’s coming, I really like what you have I
want to trade. Maybe we should call this
The Mean Girls Event. I hide my
stuff. Sometimes I hold it at my side and
if it’s really good just sit on it. No
one wants it after you sit on it.
As I’m cooking a giant apple pie for this fun get together I
remember another event I cooked for.
Well first the apple pie thingy.
I guess it can be called a pie. I
peeled pounds of apples, used a juicy, fragrant lemon from a friends tree. It is the kind of smell that starts your
mouth watering. You have to do steps
like this so your thinly sliced apples that you stood for hours peeling don’t
turn brown. I have now sprinkled
generous amounts sugar, nutmeg and canela all over those puppies and me. I’m showing off, canela is cinnamon and you
didn’t think I knew spanish! Since we
all like to eat it is a 13X9 pie, we’ll see.
When you get to the pictures you will see some cute embellishments on
top. I made little roses out of pie
crust. I learned, if you make it cute,
even if it tastes like crap they don’t notice as much.
This story is the
truth so help me. My Grandmother never
thought I would learn to cook. Now if
you knew my Mom you’d know why. One time when my little girl was in school
the teacher was talking to the squirming children about Christmas holiday. Teacher says something like, “I know all of
you are excited to be with you families and eat grandma’s good cooking.” Well my little baby raises her hand really
high and waves it around like she’s trying to swat a fly so the teacher is sure
to take notice. There are other parents
there too because this is the Christmas Party for the class. Remember back when the Home Room Mother would
call. You never ever wanted to be
the Home Room Mother. If you were you
had to pester the other Mothers who swore they would help if you would be the HOME ROOM MOTHER. Back to the story I get distracted easily. Tavia
now has the full attention of the class and parents because with that much hand
waving it must be important. Then she
does it: as truthful as can be tells our dirty secret. “We don’t eat my
Grandma’s cooking.” There it is, YUK
just about covers it. My Mother is an
awful cook and my grandmother is terrified it may be inherited and God forbid
she may be right.
Our oldest boy has just joined The Boy Scouts of America in
our new hometown of Tyler Texas. We are
fairly new to the area and I want the other scout mothers from The Boy Scouts
of America to like me and my cooking so I get a recipe from a new friend. It sounded scrumptious, looked pretty in the
picture and I was sure it was going to smell good. This one recipe contained all of the
ingredients for an invite back and kudos.
I’m on a roll now I think to myself. The one time I did not taste was my demise.
I get all gussied up and with my pretty food baked in my big, beautiful,
expensive corningware dish with the special spoon and off we go. You know the spoon don’t you? It’s the one nobody better scratch up or dig
with. This one shines and looks good
with the corningware. We are called by
table number to enter the serving line.
The line is a river of Boy Scouts, Scout Leaders, families and Mothers
of Scouts hoping to get kudos. I decide not to get any of my prize because I
want to all the other people to enjoy it.
Even my big, expensive, corningware dish couldn’t feed everybody, but I
wanted as many as could to get some. I
smile and make small talk in line then scoot back to my assigned spot at the
table. I am happily eating and smelling
everything on the plate, hoping the cook will recognize my kudos. I glance at the plate next to mine and notice
the lady is not telepathically giving kudos. In horror I see her stirring something with a
fork, the look of disgust and fear is
unmistakable. It is my prized, kudo’s getting
dish, scooped from the big, expensive, corningware by the shiny spoon. I give her the Oh what’s wrong look and say
sweetly good food huh? She looks back,
still stirring the offending food I brought and says ”Did you get any of
this?” I put on my best disgusted look
to match the one I’m seeing and say “Well no, it didn’t look good.” She says
“OH MY GOSH IT”S AWFUL! IT IS THE WORST STUFF I EVER TASTED!” Now I’m scared. What if someone saw me put it on the table? Would anyone recognize I brought the dish
with the shiny spoon? I am smiling and
looking around the room and everybody is stirring it with a fork. I don’t know if they were trying to figure
out what was in it or kill it. I still, to this day don’t know what the heck
happened I just know it must have been inherited. So now the dinner is over, thank
goodness. I wanted to cry and it’s time
to go home. Well Better Half shakes a
few hands and starts heading to the table to retrieve the big, expensive corningware
and shiny spoon. I tackle him like a
linebacker. Is he crazy?? Why in the world would you let anybody know I
brought the scary food? I tell him if he even looks in that direction he is
dead and there will never ever be any more sex ever. Well that scared him and he made a military
type turn off to the car we went.
Pies done and it’s time to go to The Ladies Event. Want me to save you some?
I just now saw where I could leave a comment :) That is so funny Mom. I remember both of those events.Do you remember how I started to tell her that you brought that dessert, but you motioned me to be quiet? I just could not understand why you did not want her to know you made it, much less leave your dish there LOL.
ReplyDeleteI remember tell that story to my teacher, but I did not remember you being there or that it was a family type event. In my mind, I was just in class.
Keep writing mom. You are good at it and these are treasures of your heart, left for generations to come. I admire you so much for the life you are living. I tell everyone that from the time I was a young girl, you would be driving and out of nowhere say things like “Wouldn’t it be fun to move somewhere tropical, like an island.” I would watch you say this, staring out the window, and I knew in my mind you were already there. For a moment, you transported yourself to this mystery location. Then, you would come back to reality, turn up the radio, and start singing. Oh, how you loved to sing that song “Downtown” by Petula Clark; and I would smile inside at how beautiful you were (and still are) with your big brown eyes, beautiful facial features, and a free spirit that knew how to appreciate the little things in life. Stunning, I would say to myself, my mother is just stunning!