For the Love of Dirt: November 2020

Sunday, November 29, 2020

CONDUCTING CHRISTMAS

"Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas."-Peg Bracken

They always came at Christmas. Mr. and Mrs. Totting. Always dressed to the nines. Always on time.He wore a cream brown suit with a thin tie. She was coifed and perfumed.A mink stole around her silk suit. They were old chums of my parents. They used to go dancing together for years.And now, they came to our house. For years, after my father was no more.

They came for the old days. For the friendship. For the music on the stereo. For the sherry and the Vinegar tarts.

They looked like the mincemeat tarts. But they weren't. My mother made sure the fire was roaring. I don't know how she did it. She always put on a spread for Mr. and Mrs. Totting.

The ever present smoked oysters, cream crackers ( all company got those), Hickory farms cheeses, cut into cubes, radishes in the shape of flowers, strawberries dipped in chocolate, sandwiches ( three kinds), shortbread dipped in chocolate, fruitcake buttered like bread, and tarts. Vinegar tarts.

Tea. Sherry. More tea. and Christmas records on the old stereo. The one my dad bought a few years before he died. He and Mr. Totting used to play records and conduct invisible orchestras. It was their passion. Their past time. They would laugh and take turns.

It was a quiet time. My mother, nervous about the evening, making sure the fire roasted everyone alive. Mr. and Mrs. Totting happily munching , slurping, drinking and laughing away the night.

But it was a tad empty. My father was no longer there. But yet, he was still there. You could feel him there.

My mother served the Vinegar Tarts scalding hot. Their innards burst out of the pasty like molten lava. Squirted all over Mrs. Totting's nice suit jacket.

Christmas VINEGAR TARTS ( 1940’s)

(Basically a gooey type of butter tart, but without raisins. My grandmother and mother made these all the time ….)

¾ cup brown sugar

1 large tablespoon of butter

2 tablespoon of red wine vinegar, or balsamic, or white vinegar

½ cup corn syrup

2 eggs

Beat all together, pour into tart shells and bake at 350 till filling is set, about 18 minutes. ( Makes about 14 tarts) Don't serve them scalding hot.

While my mother hurried to find a cloth to clean the jacket I was told to play. Dutifully I hauled out my violin and started sawing away on any Christmas carol I knew. At least four times thru. I was methodical.I saw Mr. and Mrs. Totting wince. They always winced when I began playing. But held their smiles. I thought that meant they were loving it. So I scraped away at some more carols till I was told to stop.

Every year they came I had to play. Every year they smiled and nodded. They must have loved music, cause my mother had me play piano next. They didn't wince as much then.

One year, on the same day, same time, we expected them again. My mother put out the spread and set the fire, and turned on the stereo to play Harry Belafonte.

But the evening dragged on and they never came.

They had forgotten. They came a few days later. Then that spring they moved away. We never saw them again. Never again would I serenade them with four choruses of each carol I knew.

The last time they were here, Mr. Totting put on a record. and he conducted away. Like he would have when he and my father would do. I watched Mr. Totting smile. The years seemed to melt away as he remembered the Christmas evenings when there was music and laughter and those vinegar tarts.....

"The light of the Christmas star to you.The warmth of hearth and home to you..." -Sherryl Woods

Photographs 2020

Wednesday, November 25, 2020

A DUCT TAPE CHISTMAS

"The true beauty of Christmas is revealed when we adore the season, not like some weary adult, but like a bubbly little child..." -Michael Bassey Johnson

"TOILET'S BROKEN!!" I yelled so my mother could hear in the kitchen. It was Company day. Carols playing on the radio. Kitty playing under the tree. Pots bursting at their seams on the stove. Two Mincemeat pies bubbling in the oven.

Company was due in an hour. Smoked oysters. Cream crackers. Smoked cheese. Followed by Roast Beast. Mashed potatoes with butter, Brussel sprouts ( yuck). and mincemeat pie. Oh that mincemeat pie.......a butter crust and mincemeat hot and simmering.

And the toilet. Yes, the old toilet seat. Broken off its hinges.

It wobbled. It was cracked. It wouldn't stay put. It slithered from side to side.

Two days before Christmas.

One hour before Great Aunt Norma and Great Uncle Ted would descend. Some sort of long lost relatives that appeared at Christmas.

Devouring everything in sight. The Christmas before, Uncle Ted broke my mother's delicate reading chair when he sat on it. He burped a lot and sweated profusely. Aunt Norma drank sherry till she giggled mercilessly. Then she would hiccup. They were fun.

1960's

My father gave that little chair to my mother when they moved into the house in Fairfield in the 50's.

I carried the broken toilet seat out to the kitchen. "Don't bring that in here!" shouted my mother. "But what if they fall in?" said I, sticking my head between the oval. (I was like 10)"We need a new one"

My mother took a long look at the dining room all laid out in her best china. Steam from the boiling pots escaped and wafted over the table. The broken little chair from last year caught her eye.

"Duct Tape!" she looked at the little chair that bore the wounds. My mother put it back together with duct tape. No one ever sat in it after that. Instead it held the phone book. She couldn't bring herself to throw it out.

She handed me the huge roll of duct tape. I ripped pieces off and cemented the toilet latches so they would not move. I doubted no one would break it now. Not even Aunt Norma, who wore a girdle that swished when she walked.

The dinner was pretty good. I was on my best behaviour.Well, sort of. I kept stealing cream crackers. Uncle Ted didn't break anything. Aunt Norma drank tea instead of sherry. They ate BOTH mincemeat pie. Uncle Ted said "'Scuse Me" a dozen times at least. He sure burped a lot.

And that little chair?It survived countless moves for years.(Duct tape rules.) Till one day, many moons later, I had it repaired. All the duct tape came off. It was restored to its beautiful self. But ever since then I have never let anyone sit in it. just in case. And I keep a roll of duct tape near by. Just in case.