Hog Killin' Weather

Reading a post on our family web site written by my cousin Lynn brought back a lot of memories. I remember when it was hog killing weather which was usually winter when it was really cold outside.  It was an all day affair to process the hog, but everyone around would help. 

Me and my grandaddy, Edgar Loudermilk

 I have seen Granny can sausages. She and Granddaddy had a smoke house in which they hung the salted hams.   I don't remember them ever smoking the hams, but we still called it the smoke house.

Mama use to fry pork and after she took up the meat she would pour  hot coffee into the grease and make "red-eye gravy" which we poured over a biscuit.

One time Daddy had killed a hog and there was all this fresh pork.   Mama had been cooking and eating this fresh meat during the day, and during the night had a gall bladder attack.   She had to have major surgery.   She almost died from the combination of a highly infected gall bladder and the surgery, and it was triggered from all the fresh pork.

One of my favorite meals is fried fat back, small green onions, green beans, tomatoes, cucumbers and cornbread with fresh butter on the cornbread.   Add some fried potatoes and you have a meal fit for a king.

Wonderful memories of a time when we grew and processed our own food.  I would have no idea how to process the meat the way my parents and grandparents did.  Good thing we have a grocery store near by.

The "good old days" really means the "hard working days."  So thankful we don't have to depend on my knowledge of agriculture and food preservation.  My family would starve to death.

It is me again, Lord, thank you for the good memories of a time long ago.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  When you are given opportunities to have experiences or learn from your elders, make sure you don't walk away empty handed. 

Dreaming About Mama

The weather is more like spring than winter.  The little jonquil and daffodil blooms have already opened here in the North Georgia Mountains.  This makes me feel like spring has arrived.  Spring makes me miss Mama even more.  It was in Spring that she went home to be with our Lord, Jesus Christ.

I dream about Mama.  I have been dreaming about her on a regular basis since she died.  I want to sit and talk to her.  In my dreams the coffee pot is either brewing, or we are just putting on the pot.  She is not sick in my dreams.  The sad part of my dream is that she and I don't sit down and talk.  Isn't that strange?  One would think that I would be sitting with her, drinking coffee, laughing, and talking.

Maybe my dreams are really trying to tell me something.  Mama and I had unfinished business together. 

If your parents are still with you, clear the air of unfinished business before they are gone.  I always wanted my mama to be proud of me and my accomplishments, but I don't think she was.  I made mistakes in my personal life that haunted my relationship with my mom. The Lord has forgiven me, but I have a hard time forgiving myself.  Do you ever feel that way?  It is harder to forgive one's self than to forgive others.  

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for forgiveness even when I can't forgive myself.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Make sure you tell loved ones how you feel.  It's good for the soul.

That's My Daddy

I have written about my daddy before, but he was such an unusual man, one writing can't contain the love I had, and still have, for him.

Daddy had a saying for just about everything.  Folks would stop by, and if he had not been feeling well, he was "under the weather" (sick) or he was "Fair to middlin'" (feeling fine, but not great) this was also a term used for a certain grade of cotton.

One day I asked Daddy if he was hungry, "Yes, my stomach thinks my throat's been cut."

I find myself using old sayings and idioms.  My Hispanic students probably don't have a clue to what I am saying.  I have been trying to break this habit of mine, but it is a hard one to break.  I grew up with Daddy.

One day, about a year before my daddy passed away, he and I were sitting in the car waiting for my brother and sister to come out of a furniture store.  Two very large ladies came out.  Daddy, in a soft and thoughtful voice said, "If those two ladies are told to haul butt, they are already loaded."  Yes, that was my dad.

I miss that man.  Lord knows he was hard to get along with sometimes. We had our share of disagreements, but I sure did love him.  Growing up it seemed like I was closer to my mom.  But the year after Mama died, Daddy and I got closer.  I wanted Daddy to be there when I retired so we could go places together.  God had other plans for him.  Daddy missed my mama; he missed Uncle Buford; He missed Uncle Tim.  All three passed away within a few months of each other. In November the year before these three died,  his brother, Uncle Clyde, died.  Those deaths, so close together, really touched Daddy.

When we pray for healing for our loved ones, and they don't get better like we want, one must remember this:  The person we are praying to get better may be praying for God to take them home. 

It is me again, Lord, thanking you for the wonderful memories of my dad.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  Don't get angry with God when a loved one passes and you feel your prayers weren't answered.  God may have answered your loved one's prayers instead.

Ouch! It Was Cozy

The best smell in the world is early morning breakfast with Mama cooking. Some how, no matter how cold outside, the house felt warm inside just by breathing the smell of coffee, biscuits, gravy, and coco syrup. Growing up we had just one heater to heat the whole house, but then Mama would start cooking breakfast, you knew that it would be warm and cozy in our house.

As the house grew from three rooms, when I was small, to the six bedrooms. Each of us had a morning ritual getting up. Mine was to go stand in front of the gas space heater and pull my gown up to warm by bottom in front of the heater. One day our little dog was in front of the heater and I made a mistake of getting between the dog and the heater. I accidently stepped on her tail, she yelped, and I jumped back and touched my legs on the hot metal. Ouch! I had a small burned place on the back of my legs that matched the small metal safety rails on the space heater.

Years later after the upper floor was added and the space heater was history, brother Eddie would come down the steps and sit down in front of the heating vent to get warm and talk to Mama from the stairs.

We had a loved filled home growing up. I miss those days, but I don't miss the gas space heater.

It's me again, Lord, thanking you for wonderful memories of my childhood.

A little Georgia Wisdom:  If if comes down to you or the dog, let the dog have the space in front of the fire.  The scar lasts a very long time.