We don't have a fish market around here anymore. As a child we had one in a neighboring town, and it was owned by Joe Clankey. He had the coolest market. You walked in the door, and in the summer, the screen door slapped against the door frame as it closed, and off to your right was this huge tub, about waist high full of live fish swimming around in water. All kinds of fish. Catfish, bluegill, croppy, and even eel! For those of you who may not be fish connoisseurs, eel is this long fish that's black and moves in the water like a big black snake, or it was big in my memory. So my mom would go to the counter and tell Joe what kind of fish she wanted and he would go to the tub and fish out what she wanted. Joe caught his own fish from the river, and sold it. He had this wooden tree slab where he would whack the fish over the head with a mallet, to be humane like, and then clean your fish for ya, and cut it up right there at his make shift table. He'd then weigh it out for ya, wrap it up in white butcher paper, and tie it up with cord. He had this big spool of cord that would twirl as he masterfully wrapped your fish up. He'd tie it in a nice bow for you, so it would be easy to unwrap. He'd always break the cord off with his bare hands. That was always exciting, next to looking at the different fish swim around in the fish tub. That was back in the day when you could eat river fish without all the hoopla. Now days they have what you call fish ponds, where they harvest fish or pools they call them. I think I would faint dead away, if looked at a pool of nothing but black eel.
I got my love of coffee from my great grandmother. Her name was Carrie. Oh do I miss her! She was really old from my first memory of her. My auntie and she lived together in a small apartment when I first remembered her. My mom has tales of her living with my great grandmother in the country on their farm. She raised my mom after her mother died when my mom was like 3 or 4 years old. My aunt would make strong coffee and leave the cream in a little pitcher on the table for grandma Carrie to doctor her coffee with. It was always real cream, never the fake stuff. That's how she taught me to fix my first cup of coffee as a kid. In those days you made coffee on the kitchen stove. Remember those old perk-a-lators!
When was the last time you ever darned a piece of clothing?
darn 1 |därn|verb [ trans. ]embroider (material) with a large running stitch.mend (knitted material or a hole in this) by weaving yarn across the hole with a needle.
My sister and I were talking this morning, after going clothes shopping day before yesterday, that we needed to start darning some of our clothes, rather than always buying new ones. Clothes are getting outrageous price wise. So today, I have a pair of pants I am going to up the hem on, and I am going to sew a button that has been missing since last winter on my lightweight rain coat, and I need to move 3 buttons over on a pair of pants. One on the front, and two side buttons. Just the other day I had to darn 3 places on one of my favorite sweaters. So glad they had home economics when I went to school. Do they still teach home economics in schools these days? Well they should!
That dog Caity is in big trouble! I came in from work yesterday, and as I glanced in the living room, I noticed that the pet's pillow was on the floor. I didn't think anything about it since that happens quite a lot when I'm not there. I don't expect them to pick them up of course, I just go round the room and replace them. Later on, I go in there to read, and I find their pillow, their pet towel, both on the floor with stuffing piled high in the pet chair! Now I paid $25 for this chair especially for the pets. It has served 3 cats and Caity the dog for 3 years. She is what they called "One hot mess" from days yonder. No, it was not Ziggy the cat. Ziggy is declawed! It was OHM! I stuffed the stuffing back in, covered it with their LL Bean beach towel that is actually Ziggy's with his embroidered name on the edge, that he now shares with OHM! This was the before picture. Don't be fooled by that meek look of hers!
Sista, just called. I dropped a hint I was needing a tomato for my fish sandwich later while talking to her on her cell, on her way to the grocery. She's on her way over with it. That girl is a real gem of a sister! Course, so am I! Hehe!
I tell ya, I started out living a sheltered life, then that metamorphosed into a hard patch, now I'm livin a blessed life. Ain't God good!
Oh...if you ever have problems with my links, or I should say Blogger's link, simply highlight the links I provide, right click and choose "open in another window" or "open URL" and you will be able to view the links. For some reason, Blogger does not enable hyperlinks any more.
COME TO THE PURPLE DOOR WITH FLOWERCHIC next time, and we'll travel somewhere or unearth something to talk about! Stay blessed cause you already are. You do know that right!?
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