The Best Burgers In The World

I have written a lot about my childhood, some things about my ancestors and some about being a young mother. I been very fortunate to have had a good life. I have developed a sense of humor over the years and have accepted what cards I have been dealt. However, there was one hand that was super fantastic and that was the Royal Flush of Sweezies.
Lunch tickets were thirty-five cents at the school. Sweezies charged thirty-five cents for a hamburger and a box of chocolate milk. I cannot possibly describe the hamburgers, however I will try to describe the building, the ambience the seating and the looks of the hamburgers.
Going to Sweezies was alright with my mother just once in awhile because she didn’t think it was a nutritious meal (she was absolutely right) and she didn’t think it was enough food to get me through the day (she was right again).
The building was white with a window that faced the school. You could see the man probably Mr. Sweezy frying hamburgers in tallow. Yes, he used beef fat to fry the hamburgers in. He wore a paper hat, an apron that was completely stained with grease. Did he have a little mustache? I can’t remember for sure, but he didn’t talk much, he was too busy getting the hamburgers out for the customers. The hamburger meat was rolled in little meat balls. He took his heavy spatula and flattened the meat balls into hamburgers and in little less than two minutes a miracle was born. A Sweezie’s Hamburger!He had the hamburger buns to the side of the grill. They were slopped with grease to make them to die for. There were about twelve to fourteen stools and no tables or booths that I remember. That was fine because the hamburgers were so delicious that you downed them in two bites, slurped the chocolate milk as fast as you could and ran back to school. As I am sitting here actually seeing the inside of that little hamburger joint I am shaking my head wishing that I could go back just one more time for a burger and chocolate milk.

Old Time Words And Expressions

There are a multitude of old words and expressions that I grew up with that you seldom hear anymore. I used “sauce” on one of my posts not too long ago, and a reader said that word brought back a lot of memories because that is what canned fruit was called when she was a child.
I was told not to “muss” my dress or skirt when I was little by my mother and grandmother. In the days of feed sack and flour sack material it wrinkled very easily. Because of that, little girls were taught to smooth out their skirts with both hands before sitting down.
The other day I went to get out of my chair and I groaned and moaned and told Fran I was all “stove up.” I grew up with that expression. All that means is that you have a little pain that you can live with, but it is uncomfortable when you get up from bed or a chair after a period of time.
My mother frequently asked me (she never told me) to go to the garden and pick a “mess” of green beans for supper. Well a “mess” means a different amount for each family. A “mess” depends on how many people in the family and how well they like green beans. Once in a while she would have me go back to the garden and pick more. She also would go after me to see how many plants I had pulled up by accident while picking the beans. A mess also included peas. That was more difficult to determine because peas in the pod looked like a lot. A porcelain dishpan full of peas resulted in less than two cups of peas.
When I was young I got many “discussions” about slang language. My mother would not allow any slang that could in fact substitute for Biblical connotations i.e., “gosh” “darn” etc. However, my mother frequently used, “My soul and body, bloody murder, Heavens, Good Heavens, Looking to the ceiling and saying, “Give me Strength”
My Grandma used to say “Sugar” I am sure that substituted for something naughty.
Mom used, “Traipsing” when I was a teenager. She would ask, “Where have you been traipsing around?”
Mother would also say “ Get yourself “corralled” and help me”
Dad always said, “Get into the jitney and we will get going.” Which referred to a 1920’s kind of trolley car that was not insured or franchised. I can remember a song about a jitney.
Dad always called my oldest boy a “knuckle head.” You don’t hear that much any more. Maybe that’s because other kids aren’t knuckle heads. Oh he called him a knot head too.
One of my sister’s favorite expressions was, “Whoopee Ding.”
My Grandmother used, “Glory Be and Land O’Goshen.”
My mother used to say, It’s good for what ails you about medicine and cod liver oil pills. (That’s another story.)
Another expression Mother used a lot with me is “Don’t be so owly, or “Aren’t we owly today?” Hmm I wonder if I had a growly disposition when I was younger. Maybe that’s why I drove my mother up the wall when I called everybody a “goon.”

A Stolen Moment Of Chocolate Bliss

The other day my friend and I were going to a little town to have our nails done. She was driving and I was gawking. That is an advantage of not being able to drive. I saw a thirty something mom sitting in front of a house eating a candy bar. Watching her take that bite, almost hurled me into a time warp of the early seventies when my time was not my own.
Any young mom knows that when you have young children they need and deserve your time and attention. Any young mom also knows that when you eat something both your children and your dog if you have one, wants what you have.
Any young mom knows that when a nickel for a candy bar is hard to come by there are some moments caused by the devil that sits on the shoulder opposite of the angel that makes you hide a candy bar in your pocket when your children are not around.
Such a moment happened to me many, many years ago. I went to the neighborhood grocery store and bought a Hershey bar for a nickel and then went to my sister-in-law’s house, and honked the horn. She came running out to the car thinking something was wrong. I yelled at her to lock the door and gave her half of the candy and we both slid down in the seat because her children were trying to see inside the car. We laughed ‘til we almost choked.
We just talked about that the other day and laughed and laughed. To this day we have never felt guilty. I could not find any where a picture of a nickel Hershey bar, but I found this picture of female workers making the wrappers for them. It shows on this post that they were all wearing high heels. Oh the five pound candy bar costs forty nine dollars at the store now.

Miss Penny

Miss Penny taught arithmetic. I don’t remember what kind of arithmetic, but I think it was general math in the eighth grade.
I am not going to write a long post about her, but I was used to the kind and soft spoken Miss Fransico in seventh grade to the harsh and loud almost yelling Miss Penny.
My mother, however forewarned me about her because Miss Penny had been her teacher, and my sister’s. My sister was eleven years older than me and my mother was
Thirty two years older than me so there you have it. Miss Penny knew how to add and subtract and you had better catch on and quickly or you were not the lucky soul to have her give you one of her smiles that were handed out like hundred dollar bills.
Miss Penny had had breast cancer and had no prosthesis so she was constantly reaching for her bra or slip strap. My mother told me the reason for this and even at that young age I thought that someone should invent something to help ladies that had that kind of cancer.
Well that’s about it for Miss Penny, I was able to do Algebra by the time I got to ninth grade so she still knew her stuff.

One Challenge Deserves Another!

I just read a comment by my only sibling. He loves to use fifty cent words like folically challenged instead of bald. I like to use words that are easy to understand. I am the one with hair and he is bald as a cue ball. I just love him to death, but he does need to be put down a peg! I am sure, however, he will say he is the one with his own teeth. I wonder what kind of challenge that is? This is the composite he sent me. My new "do" and Keith's "do" from years gone bye. Love you, Keith

First Winter Then Spring; A Leak!

Anyone that knows Fran knows that unless he has a microphone or a crown &coke in his hand, he is quiet as a mouse. He seldom initiates conversation, unless he is asking someone to sing or what he wants for dinner. He is also a “zoner.” That means that when television is on, no matter what the channel or the show, Fran is in his own world in sync with the television.
When friends arrive with a deck of cards he lights up like a neon moon, gets his quarters and is ready to go.
Fran very seldom gets irritated, let alone angry until we had this situation that arrived at our house the other day.
As you know if you have been reading my posts, my daughter and her children arrived a few days ago. They were to stay for two and a half days, we had no water so they had to go home.
We use our camper for two bedrooms and an extra bathroom. So shortly before they were to arrive, Fran filled the fresh water tank with water and much to his chagrin the water was every where but in the tank. It was pouring out the door the rugs were soaked and on and on.
I quietly made an exit and watched from the porch because the loud bad words were curling my hair.
Finally he came to the porch and announced that he was going to take the camper and shove it into the lake where it belonged. I couldn’t resist and asked him if it wouldn’t be more cost effective if we used it for fire wood. He did not see the humor in my effort for levity.
Fran also told me that there was no way he was going to rip the walls and the floor out to see where the leak was. I said, “Well sell it then.” The conversation went back and forth with me and only me seeing the humor as well as the “fix” to it.
After Melanie and the kids went home Fran had me call a friend of ours and come to find out he was out of work and was thrilled to come and replumb the camper. Whoppee! Here is just one pile of copper tubing that burst from lack of antifreeze this winter.

Mother Goose Catastrophe

It was not until today that I realized that Mother Goose was a real person. I always thought she was a fairy tail type person that children loved to read about or hear stories about.
In actuality I think she lived in the 1600’s or so and was a widow with six children. She married Mr. Goose who had ten children, then he died and she moved in with her daughter. Oh I just bet her daughter was thrilled.
Mrs. Goose loved children and enjoyed telling them stories and little rhymes. The story goes that one of her son-in-laws thought that there might be a market for these little jingles and stories. There you have the beginning of Mother Goose Nursery Rhymes; at least my version. I tell you all of this to preface a story that happened to me many many years ago, I believe in Miss Hanson’s second grade class. She chose Joan Montgomery and me to act out a Mother Goose story. Which one I do not remember, however, I especially remember that Joan played the part of Mother Goose. I so do wish I could remember what part I played because Mother Goose was furious with me.
We did our little skit in front of the class so everyone could see. Lucky me. Well, Joan came at me with her arms waving like an angry goose would. As she walked towards me I backed up and ker plunk I fell in Miss Hanson’s waste
Paper basket. My bottom down, my arms and legs up and my pride completely demolished.
Joan and I were talking about that the other day and how long it took to get a chubby little girl out of that wastepaper basket.