Ducks

The ducks have started coming in.  We're seeing mallards, grebes, and always herons.  This morning, when I looked out the kitchen window and saw the ducks, it reminded me of a time when we were on our way home, from Atlanta, and Mom  wanted to drive us through Piedmont Park. We were enjoying the park and trees and looking at the ducks on the lake, when she ran over a curb.  Not only did we get a flat tire, but, the rim was also ruined. After we limped to a gas station, maybe that is why the rim was ruined, and bought a new tire, we made our way back to Monroe.  The only thing we talked about on the way home was "don't tell Daddy".  Mom decided that it was best to blame this on wild teenagers driving us off of the road.  Papa never knew about this from my lips.  

Avondale Estates

The very first house I remember was our home in Avondale Estates.  I don't remember very much about our time in Avondale, but I do remember that I fell into the community pool and my grandfather, Paw, 'saved' me.  Our home had two bedrooms, and we were very crowded! Mom and Dad, older brother, sister Judy, me, brother Mike, sister Nell, and, Dad's father, Paw.  Mom said she had bunk beds everywhere.  Paw's wife, Nona Corry Oakes, died in 1947 and Dad and his brother Walter were going to take turns having him live with them.  That, of course, didn't happen.  Paw lived with us for twenty three years.  Sometimes he would visit other friends, and at one time Dad had  a place in Lawrenceville for him. 

Back to Avondale.  Avondale Estates, just outside of Atlanta, was a master planned community, founded by George Francis Willis in 1924.  Mr. Willis purchased the entire village of Ingleside and renamed it after Stratford-upon-Avon.  The downtown buildings were all designed in a Tudor style, and many of the houses also.  There were tennis courts, a lake, a community pool and clubhouse.  The first Waffle House opened in Avondale in 1955.

After the War, Dad had a hardware store, in East Atlanta, and was able to carry a line of  washing machines.  Washing machines were a rare commodity at that time.  The only one he had was a floor model, which he immediately brought home to Mom.  (This is not a picture of Peaches.)  Mom was very grateful for her new wringer machine, as the maid was probably doing the wash in a wash tub. Older brother was a very inquisitive young man, as Mom and Dad found out.  One day, he took her wringer washing machine apart.  I don't know if it ever worked the same again.  About the only other exciting thing that happened in Avondale was connected to older brother.  He tried out a hammer on Paw's head.  Paw didn't think it too exciting.  

There were lots and lots of children on our street; the war boom babies were just starting in 1946.   

Book Club

Today, book club meets at Barbara's home, which made me remember one of the first times Mom went to book club.  We were discussing Cane River,  at Barbara's, when Mom made a comment that set the ladies to  gasping and  laughing.  Now, I always sit next to her so that I can pinch and squeeze her arm when I have any indications something is getting ready to happen.   Dotsy  also helps;  or, does she encourage Peaches?  The ladies in the club love to hear Mom, hoping for a new bombshell.  Barbara always serves great pies.  

  Reading was a big part of our growing up.  Mom and Dad always had lots of books in the house; all six of us have enough of their books to fill our homes.  Mom loved Galsworthy, and Dad was partial to Dickens.  Dad had a set of Mark Twain that was autographed, by Twain.  It was addressed to Cory, only one r, not like Dad's two.  In the auction trade it is known as ANS, autograph note  signed.  For the longest time, it confused me.  How could Dad have known Mark Twain in the 1800's?  Papa spent a great deal of  time reading, and always encouraged us to read.  The only book he told me that I could not read was J. D. Salinger's Catcher in the Rye.  Which I of course I immediately read, and did not understand some of the words.  If I had only waited a few years, then, I would have understood why he did not want me to read it.

Barbara served a delicious pumpkin and caramel pie, along with many other delicacies. 

Baking for Bridge

Tomorrow, Wednesday, it's Mom's turn to have our bridge club to her house.  I've made for the lunch tomorrow: white bean chicken chili!! and a cheesecake.  This is the best cheesecake ever, and it comes from a cookbook that Dotsy gave me: Great Cakes by Carole Walter.  Since I'm doing the cooking, I picked the menu!  Usually I serve Peaches' Texas Cornbread with the chili, but we're having french bread instead.  Fortunately, the cheesecake is extremely light.  Mom has played bridge as long as I can remember.  She played with the same group of ladies for about 40 years.  Now, she is in two bridge clubs out here, and substitutes in more.  She is an excellent bridge player.  We also have a 'club' that meets whenever we can.  We call it the Peach Pits, or Peaches and her Pits.  We also have some sub-pits!  Mom, Dotsy, LarryAnn, Barbara, and sometimes Karen, and I'm always there!  We start about 1 at Mom's, the Club House, and finish when the wine runs out.    Mom's ladies in Monroe played every Thursday. They all took a sandwich, and played until school got out.  PS If you want the recipe, click on the right hand picture..

Happiness is.......a cord of wood on a rainy Monday.

and, it's on the screen porch, nice and dry!  Cliff says that I start a fire if it gets below 70.  I remember growing up that Mom always had a fire going when there was the least bit of a chill.  Dad would come home from the hardware store to get it started.  They used big lumps of coal most of the time.  I think they stopped using coal about the same time the ice house in Monroe closed.  There was a coal bin under the house on Highland Avenue.  Also, in the house in Atlanta. If Dad wasn't at home building fires, or serving cocktails to the ladies, he was at the hardware store.  It was next to the Farmer's Bank.  We all had savings accounts there, and on Saturdays I loved to walk up to the store and get my savings book and withdraw a nickel.  For many years until the early 80's the bank would sent me statements about once a year. I know they were grateful when I finally closed that account.  It may have had $5.00 in it. The Farmers Bank changed names, moved into a new building, and Dad moved out of downtown also, to Davis Street.  He had a huge red building with a front stoop big enough to sit on and eat watermelons.  There was a refrigerator in the back of the store and always full of cold watermelons, on hand for customers and grandchildren.