Little Treasures from Budgie
My grandmother, Budgie would have easily won, hands down, the title of "World’s Best Grandmother." A kinder, funnier, more loving person you’d be hard pressed to meet. She and my mom also raised me and my brother from the time I was ten years old.
We were soul mates.
She passed away six years ago at the age of 92.
I have a couple of little treasures from her kitchen.
Here is an old, aluminum note pad holder she always had by the phone. It’s from the local grocery store in my little bitty home town in Texas. Note the phone number of the grocery store: 201.
I have a couple of little treasures from her kitchen.
Here is an old, aluminum note pad holder she always had by the phone. It’s from the local grocery store in my little bitty home town in Texas. Note the phone number of the grocery store: 201.
When I say that my home town was little-bitty, I mean little-bitty.
Up until the mid sixties, you only had to dial three numbers for a local call. Then, all hell broke loose and we had to dial FIVE numbers.
By the way, the “53191” in my blog name was Budgie’s phone number. This way, I get to keep using it.
Up until the mid sixties, you only had to dial three numbers for a local call. Then, all hell broke loose and we had to dial FIVE numbers.
By the way, the “53191” in my blog name was Budgie’s phone number. This way, I get to keep using it.
Next is her old stock-pot. She had a “deep-well” on her stove top in which this stock pot fit. Many a pot of soup, of red beans, of chicken and dumplings were made in this pot.
Having raised her own children during The Depression, Budgie hated to waste anything. A food item could be moldy enough to produce penicillin and she’d remark, “Oh, just scrape off that moldy part. It’ll be fine.”
One time, she was boiling potatoes in this stock pot and completely forgot about them. We came home to find the house filled with smoke, the stock pot completely dry, and the potatoes on fire, looking like charcoal briquettes.
My mom grabbed the stock pot and in a very dramatic movement, ran to the back door and flung the flaming contents into the yard.
My brother poked one of the potato briquettes with his shoe and in a mocking Budgie-voice said, “Oh, just scrape off that burnt part. They’ll be fine!”
It was definitely a funny "family moment."
Budgie had lots of sayings she’d often convey. One of her favorites was, “If you ain’t lovin’, you ain’t livin’!”
The woman knew how to live.
3 Comments:
I bet I would like Budgie.
I loved that little notebad thingy. Budgie was a good 'un.
Tears in eyes. They just don't make them like that any more. Here I am her daughter, your mom, and the only characterestics I inhereted from her was my veiny hands and her love for you and Bro. Not a bad deal, so far. Ma
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