Author: Vickie Brown

Easter and Mom’s favorite rice-krispie “things”

Over the years at Easter I have made bunny cakes which were so pretty with jelly bean eyes and nose and licorice for whiskers, but at one point I changed to rice krispie bunnies and eggs.  This change was definately because Mom loved the marshmallow treats. 

I created the treats as usual, but when it came time to put them in a pan to cut I formed the head, body, and ears, and many Easter egg shapes.  I would roll the eggs in multicolored pareils.  I colored coconut green for grass to place the bunny into its bed.  I still used jelly beans for the nose and eyes and string licorice for whiskers. 

I have pictures  of the cakes and rice krispie bunny bed (I’ll find later to post).

I always tried to make Mom’s favorite treats, but when I didn’t, Mom would act like it was OK, but I always knew it wasn’t OK.  It was fun and easy to make Mom happy.

Now here I am at 57, no kids, no partner, but what did I do last night, “colored a dozen eggs”.  And yes, I put the names of my sisters, Mom, and Michael  and placed each egg in the color that matched the person and decorated appropriately…what a Friday night!  (I just couldn’t do another dozen tin honor of my brothers…that would really be overding it).  It was fun and I will make egg salad today or tomorrow.

I would love to receive an Easter basket, but the only way that’s going to happen is if I give one to myself. 

What wonderful Easter memories…really just as good as Christmas!

Dad and Vickie

Lord knows my 22 years w/ Dad we’re unique (kind of like me).  There were bad things and good things, and I’ll try to concentrate on the good.

When I think about Dad I think of croquet and horseshoes.  I now have my own croquet set which I play by myself to get some sun.  I’m too damn old to even think about “laying out” in the sun.  I can work in the sun and play in the sun, but that’s as much I can do now. 

For about 20 years I’ve had a respectable garden .  (I had a patch in Xenia, but it wasn’t very big.)  I think about all the years we “had” to work in the massive gardens Dad always tended.  I swear there was an acre of potatoes that the kids had to pick up and store for the winter after Dad shoveled up the hills.  It didn’t hurt any of us, but it was grusome at the time!  I am thankful for the work ethic I have now.  Too many young people have no clue what it’s like to truly WORK!

I still didn’t like Dad much when I married Jerry Bush.  We actually had a moment during the reception and I was so afraid he would fall into the Bushs’ pool…he thankfully didn’t.  I was 18 1/2 when I got married.  I’ve done that a few times since, BUT the funniest thing was about 35 years later (at Mom’s funeral) I didn’t even recognize Jerry when he was standing right in front of me.  It really made me wonder what the heck I mourned about for 10 years after we split…the first and the second time, but I did get a carat diamond ring to remember him by.  Ah, memories!

I may add to this later, but now I have to get out to the garden and try to make Dad proud of what I learned so many years ago.

Love,

Vickie

PS:  I remember not ever saying I love you or hugging and kissing the ones I truly care about until Dad died…now it’s just an automatic feeling and greeting or good-byeing and that is a very good thing!

TRADITIONS and LIFE CHANGES and Easter too!

As the years go by, it’s kind of funny the things you do all alone with the thoughts of those you love around you.  When I lived in Xenia I would do Christmas tree decorating w/Martha and Ricky and the “little ones”.  I’d spend time decorating cookies and the tree.  Now I place a string of lights around my big sofa picture and say “Merry Christmas”.   I still go to Shirley’s (Mom) for the actual holiday, but it is so different now. 

It’s Easter now and what do I do every year…boil eggs and color/decorate them.  Here I am 55 years old, I have no kids and no grandchildren, but I still decorate/color eggs (just a bakers dozen, but I still do it.)  I’ve always “named” my eggs w/Mom and Myrtle and me and Michael, but this year I was inspired to name each of them for Robert/Goldie Cox and their kids including Carl and Bobby (they are still here in our minds and hearts), so there were 2 eggs remaining.  One I just wrote “Happy Easter” and the other “Love and appreciation for Myrtle”.)  I thought she deserved a special egg because she’s had a “bit” of extra aggravation over the past year or two.   

Holidays and all the past Easter egg hunts we’ve all enjoyed as participants and observers and all of the nice clothes we’ve dressed up in for the occassions we’ve shared, Happy Easter and Happy Holidays to everyone!  Which brings me to a past Easter memory…I was 12 years old and Myrtle made  or remade a white dress that was fitted at the bodice and waist, had poofy sleeves, and had an embroidered trim (it was very pretty.)  Based upon age, Myrtle wanted me to wear “anklet socks”  with this outfit, however, my body looked like I was 18, I was mortified!  I actually went to Mom and told her I needed to be wearing “nylons” with my dress.  Mom actually gave in and I got to wear “nylons” with my Easter dress.  It’s hard to believe, but I got my way.  (I don’t think Myrtle was thrilled, but that’s the way some things just happen.)  My Mom over ruled my “other Mom, Myrtle.)  I love you both the same!

 

Love,

Sister, Aunt, Great Aunt, Vickie 

POSTSCRIPT:  THIS BLOG NEEDS TO CONTINUE FOR ONE YEAR, SO WE HIT MEMORIES FROM EACH SEASON OF OUR LIVES…THE TIME OF YEAR MAKES YOU REMEMBER DIFFERENT THINGS ABOUT OUR LIVES…JUST A THOUGHT!

Bobby and Vickie

Bobby and I were close in age and it seemed like we fought all the time over anything.  My first memory was Bobby being at fault in braking the leg of my infamous ballerina doll.  He just wanted to upset me and decided to try and take her away from me…I wasn’t having that and thus her broken leg.  ( I bandaged her leg and as some of you know, I have her still today and I will get her picture on this site soon.)

Going through the teen years is never easy, but Bobby made fun of my blemishes, my short clothes, and anything else he could think of to make me cry.  We would fight and chase each other around the stove and around the house.  I can’t believe we didn’t kill one another, but we loved each and figured that out as we got older.  One of the funniest things was when he brought Joy home for the first time.  Joy was pretty, tall, and had legs that went on forever.  Her skirt was so short!  Bobby never made fun of my clothes again.

Around 1980, I took a business trip to New York.  Bobby was working in NY at the time and we made plans to meet at some O’something club.  I had 3 friends who joined me.  On the way through Times Sq, we we rerouted because there was a bomb scare.  We walked like we had no cares and arrived at the club.  Bobby was there w/some of his guys and was so glad to see me.  We danced (I’m not a dancer, but Bobby always led you like you felt you looked good on the floor.  His comment to me was, “god it’s good to see someone (girl) he wasn’t afraid of touching”.)  Aids had just become epidemic and he was really nervous.  My co-workers left early and Bobby said he’d get me back to the hotel safely.  When the night was over, Bobby and I got in a cab and even though his hotel was on the way to mine, he rode w/me to my hotel to make sure I was safe.

We made plans to take the train to Philadelphia and visit Myrtle and Pat.  I had my first experience of being accousted when getting out of a cab and having someone try to grab our bags, just so they could get a tip…that didn’t work, but it was interesting to see Bobby take control.  All I could think is that we could be shot!

It was such a welcome visit.  Although Myrtle and Pat aren’t drinkers, they always have tons of liquor left over from parties.  We got our hands on a “drink recipe book” and started to make as many of the concoctions as possible.  We made something that was pink and Myrtle put it to her lips, but that was that.  It was a great visit and I definately knew Bobby cared for me.  “All brothers and sisters fight…it really doesn’t mean a thing”.

Gary and Vickie and a thought of Mom.

I must have family feuds on the mind, but…

As young teens back in the old days of the 60’s, one very important thing was being on the telephone before Mom and Dad got home from work.  One afternoon, Gary was on the phone and refused to get off and let me have a chance.  I was like a tazmanian devil and began to scratch him until I ripped his shirt almost off of him.  I don’t remember what we did w/the shirt to hide it, but I do know I got to use the phone.  Gary has always been so great and certainly didn’t deserve this treatment, but I guess it was just a part of “growing pains”.  Ahhhh growing up in a big family!

 

Another “funny” memory was in the summer time at the Ferguson house.  We were all riding bikes and had just finished swimming in the river or we were going to our swimming hole under the bridge .  Along the way,  we were all going along the edge of the road and Gary slipped off the birm and fell over.  I was close behind and proceeded to ride right across Gary’w legs and his bike.  It was funny at the time and he wasn’t hurt at all.  We all continued on.

 

When I left home before my 18th birtday, Gary was the one that I found a home with.  I still had 1/2 yr of school before I graduated and I needed to be close to town.  Gary had no problem w/me staying w/him.  We helped each other no matter what.

This makes me think of Mom.  She would send quarters, wrapped in foil w/Martha to give to me at school.  She always tried to help each of us when she could.

Some of my Mom Memories

I made homemade vegetable soup yesterday and that made me think of Mom.  The summer/fall days spent cutting corn off the cob, chopping cabbage, shredding carrots, and the lists goes on.  Mom also cooked ground beef and included in the last soup fixings she made.  The time devoted to this chore was enormous, but the result can never be duplicated, yet my soup made me think of Mom. 

Another “chop job” Mom and I did together was sauerkraut.  Lord, my first memory was taking evaporated milk cans, heating one end over a gas burner and prying off the lid.  This became the kraut chopper.  It took so much time and energy to chop enough cabbage to fill a dozen jars, but it was worth it.  Pushing cabbage into (preferaby wide mouth jars), adding 1 T salt, filling w/boiling water, and inserting a case knife, wriggling it around to make the water get to the bottom, wiping jar clean and sealing.  Now my biggest fan is my  brother-in-law, Pat Sorge.  It’s easier to make now, but still takes time, but I always try to keep kraut supplied for Pat.

I make some pretty good fried chicken in the skillet, oven, or on the grill, but I have never been able to make it like Mom.  (Marnee named my chicken “killer chicken”, what a compliment!)  One thing Mom always wanted me to make for her was fried chicken livers.  (Now that was the ultimate compliment!)

Speaking of chicken…when I bought my little farm in 1990, I was gifted by a local farmer, 245 chicks and 5 turkeys.  Oh my goodness, that’s a lot of birds!  Initially they were free range birds.  I’d come hom from work and this brood came running down from the barnyard because they “knew” it was feeding time.  (I wish I had a movie camera but I don’t think I’ll ever that sight!)  The point of this story is that there were lots of chickens/roosters that had to go by that fall.  Mom was the teacher of killing chickens.  After we caught the chickens, she’d take the bird by the neck, swing it around, put the head under her foot, and pull the head off.  All of us got into the act and I must say it was so funny to watch those birds flop around with no heads.  We killed, boiled, plucked, and froze about 100 that day.  Isn’t it amazing the memories that are burned into your mind!

That’s just a few of my wonderful memories of my Mom!