Showing posts with label pickles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pickles. Show all posts

Sunday, April 7, 2013

G is for Goofy


Do you ever feel goofy?
After church on Sunday, we went with friends to Johnny Carinos. I’m not a big fan of Italian food, but I do love their raspberry tea and bread. The bread comes in long paper bags. After we ate—there were 8 of us—I saw an empty bread bag on the table and I had the strongest urge to blow into it and pop it! I didn’t, of course, but I really had to restrain myself.

I loved popping bags when I was a kid, scaring my mother and anyone else who was in the house. There’s something about making that loud pop that’s … fun!  Would you think I’m nuts if I told you I pop bags sometimes—when I’m lucky enough to come home from a store with one? Can you imagine an overweight, sixty-four year old white-haired woman blowing up a paper bag and popping it? Well, when I put it that way, I can’t either!
The instructions are right here if you want to give it a try.    

I’ve done a lot of goofy things in my life. Some good, some bad, some not so safe. I think I’ve told you before I’d chip off a little piece of the cow’s salt block and … yeah, you guessed it. Turns my stomach to think of it now.  
Pickle juice? Once my grandmother (paternal) caught me running back and forth to her fridge way too often, to sip her pickle juice.

Funny how that one out-of-the-blue urge to pop a little paper bag brought forth so many memories.
My grandmother (maternal) had a real goofy side to her. There were ten kids in my mother’s family. Eight girls and two boys. My two uncles were a year younger and a year older than me, and a favorite aunt was four years older. My mother was the oldest girl and always said her father would send her and her sisters out to the cotton field then he’d jump in bed with Grandma. From the number of kids they had in the old days, seems like all men did that. To the left, you see my grandparents and my young uncle, David.

I loved going to Arkansas to spend time with my mother’s family. Once, when I was there, my aunt and I slept so late that my grandma grabbed the water hose, stuck it through the bedroom window and sprayed us. She saturated the bedding and water was all over the floor. I’d never seen anything so outlandish in all my life! My mother was a by-the-book kind of person. No way would she have flooded a bedroom to get two kids out of bed. She’d have grabbed a belt or switch … or maybe the broom.
To the left is a pic of Uncle David and me. Of course, I never called him Uncle. He was more like a little brother. To the right, you see how my grandmother aged. Prettier with the white hair, I think.

Special memories are so valuable. My grandparents are gone now, and so is David, but I cherish the times I spent with them, the goofy memories I have.
Do you have a memory that makes you smile? One you cherish? Share it with us.