My Sister, Our Children, And A Motor Home Part 2

(Salt Cellar)

Even though the night was a short one, Rosie, and I and especially the kids were anxious to get day two underway. Well, there was no arguing, we would stay at Pauline’s house for breakfast. Now I have to remind you, Rosie and I were from the north. Breakfast was definitely southern. Pauline had grits (I thought they were disgusting) she also had ham and biscuits and red eye gravy. Why the people from the south call it gravy is beyond me. Now that stuff in my opinion should not be served to humans, just to clean out the skillet. For people who have never had it, it is just grease from the ham which she really browned, the ham was quite fatty. Then she took the ham out of the skillet and put some black coffee and a little sugar in the grease. She cooked it down some and there you have red eye gravy, the staple of most southern breakfasts which is used for biscuits. Pauline was a very sweet southern lady, and I enjoyed her very much.
I don’t remember if we had to travel to another town to Mammy’s house or if we just had to go to another part of the same town we were in, be that as it may we were on the road again. It just doesn’t seem like it was a long time. I believe the name of the town where Mammy lived was Elkton. Little did I know, but the fun was just going to begin as we pulled that big old motor home into this little country village.
Mammy lived in a small house. I think, maybe a little two bedroom cottage. Her kitchen was small, made a little bigger by an added screened in porch. Her home did not have city sewer. I was not aware of that. My little guy, Joey, was getting really tired of being cooped up in a motor home. He was ready to play. Our home was really big with a great big wraparound porch. He was just not used to being confined. He went outside and ran and jumped and played. I was watching him out the window, to make sure he was being safe and staying on the yard. He would play tricks and run really fast and jump across a little drainage ditch at the edge of the yard and then back again. He was being such a good little boy. He was about three years old then. Rosie came up to me while I was watching Joey, and said, “Uh you might want to stop Joey from jumping across that ditch.” I could not imagine why she would say such a thing, so I asked her. She then told me that the ditch was the drainage ditch for the sewer. Eww! Yup, I checked his shoes, sure enough they did need cleaning. Oh, Dear, the joys of being a little boy’s mom and a culture shock.
That evening was also inclusive of a culture shock. I don’t remember what Mammy fixed for the main course, but I will never forget what she had for a vegetable; okra. She had multiple vegetables. It seems like our little trip was in the latter part of July or the beginning of August. I can remember sweet corn, tomatoes, and all kinds of goodies. The dish came to me that had okra in it and I asked what it was. I could tell by the sparkle in my sister’s eyes that she was being really naughty. Mammy said it is very good, just don’t chew it, just swallow it. Well I took some and cut it with a fork. That is all she wrote. No chewing or swallowing. No way! Oh they laughed.
After supper was over, of course, I was going to help clear the table. I was told to put the dishes in the sink and just cover the things on the table. I was so stupid!!! I asked her if her refrigerator had quit working. She told me that even the salad with the Miracle Whip would be just fine sitting over night on the table with a clean dish towel over it. What had I just eaten???? Well I survived. I didn’t get sick. I guess the human body is extremely resilient.
The next morning I was determined not to have red eye gravy again. I went to the camper and got out cereal for Julie, Melanie, and Joey. Mammy’s kitchen, like I said was small and she had a narrow sideboard under one set of cupboards where I could fix the children their cereal. Evidently Rosie fixed Julie’s because Julie didn’t yell and scream like Melanie did. On Mammy’s sideboard was a cut glass dish that was beautiful, similar to my mother’s sugar bowl. There was no spoon in it, so I looked for the silverware drawer, grabbed a spoon and put a heaping spoonful of sugar on Melanie’s cereal, poured milk on it and called Melanie to the table. Within seconds of putting it in her mouth, Melanie started to scream and spit. I was so embarrassed I wanted to kill the child with my bare hands. Until she asked me why I had put salt on her cereal. It was not a sugar bowl, but in fact a salt cellar. Oh, Dear, for the third time in twelve hours. Tomorrow will be the third and final chapter of our memorable trip.