I Believe I Know

Let' s all understand that I believed! I believed that I could change the font in this Christmas missal, but as we all can see, believing a thing don't make it so! On the other hand, some things a mother just knows--like knowing that the best Christmas present of all is the presence of a happy family all wrapped up together. And like knowing that there is a Santa Claus and it's o.k. to believe in him. And like knowing that all the trimmings and parties that go along with Christmas are just fine, but what we want at Christmas and all through the year is illustrated in these words : Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh!" he whispered. "Yes, Piglet?" "Nothing", said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."

Yes , I did notice the change in font before the quote. I do not know how it happened, but I BELIEVE that it was an accident.

These pictures of Jon and his Christmas tree stand reminded me of some other stands that I have taken in the past. Yes, taken ! Brother Lonnie tried early on to help with the tree, but he didn' t have a whole lot of patience for custom woodworking.

Earlier Christmas trees( from l955 until Andy was old enough to fashion a stand from scrap materials) were "supported" at various times ,sometimes in the same year, in buckets or boxes filled with dirt, sand, rocks, and anything else in Brother Lonnie's line of vision . We were also open to the possibility of propping the tree against the wall. We often used bricks in the top of the bucket, arranged in a circle around the tree and carefully (don't touch) laid on end . As you might imagine, this was a shaky situation, and we had to be very careful when we put our popcorn strings on the tree. Now, I guess Brother Lonnie believed his stand would not fall, and I know he hoped it would not. I'm quite sure my children had to be persuaded when they grew up that Christmas trees are supposed to stand up straight, not leaning at a perfectly respectable 30 degree angle. One strategy I implemented was to choose a very pitiful tree, one that no one else would have, knowing that after the fifth time it fell over it wouldn't matter anyway. And I know I would gladly trade my pretty, upright tree in 2007 for that tree on the floor. Some things a mother just knows!

I believe that Jon could have bought a tree stand, but I' m so very glad that he didn't! And I believe that the story of the tree stand that he made for his babies' first Christmas will be a part of their family lore. I also believe that Jon' s tree will stand because of his stand. But I know that its o.k. if it falls. Some things a mother just knows!

LET THEM EAT CAKE

"They might not need me, but they might.

I"ll let my head be just in sight;

A smile as small as mine might be

precisely their necessity."

........Emily Dickinson

Here I am with some of my jellies. We had a great summer, as you can see--who says life is not a bowl of berries?
This has nothing at all to do with today's subject (unless you like jelly cake, which is probably the only connection you can find.)

At length I recalled the thoughtless saying of a great princess, who, on being informed that the
country people had no bread, replied, "Then let them eat cake!" Marie Antoinette must have
had a lot of cakes, but I doubt she made many more of them than I have. This one is my
signature cake ( and honestly, like my penmanship, has shown no improvement with time and
practice.) Upon reflection, I realized that my fixation on pound cakes had its origin in the
Bethlehem Primitive Baptist Church in New Orleans. You know I have to go back to the Garden
to tell you about it!
For a long while I had wanted(and I thought needed) a heavy duty mixer, but I certainly
considerated that a luxury and as such it was but a dream. One of the fifteen churches Brother
Lonnie was serving at the time was , you guessed it, that "precious little band of soldiers" at New Orleans. They are such generous saints, and there were times that without their help we would have been in trouble. Boy, that's a refrain that I can repeat over and over about these and many more people of the living God. But in this instance, it was Christmas, and they gave Brother Lonnie an extra gift, in an envelope, and you can guess the next part of that story, can't you? Yes, he gave it to me and insisted that I buy that mixer, the one I use to this day, used yesterday, and hope to use for many more cakes to come. We all know that was a sacrifice for Brother Lonnie, for he NEEDED that money to pay bills. But as he would say "you can't outgive the Lord!"

My cakes greatly improved with the advent of the new mixer, and Brother Lonnie often came in and said "Shulley, make me one of those good cakes," and I did, and off he would go to deliver it to someone to whom he wanted to give a gift. I still hear, here and there, literally, " that dear man brought us a pound cake, and we remember it to this day." I have a strong suspicion that they remember the man more than the cake , don't you?

Here is the recipe for my Bethlehem Pound Cake.
Remember to always read the recipe before you begin. While it is so very nice to have a big stand mixer, the cake will do just fine when mixed with a hand mixer. The butter must be at room temperature and one of the most important steps is to cream the shortening and sugar together until they are light in color and very fluffy.Preheat the oven to 325. You will need a bundt pan that has been sprayed generously with Baker's Joy or another kind of spray that has flour in it.( believe this).

Cream together two sticks of butter, yes, butter, not the whipped kind--two heaping T. Crisco( each the size of a large egg), and 3 cups sugar.

This process will take about ten minutes, or longer depending on your mixer. However, this is the most critical step in making the cake.

Add five eggs, one at a time, beating after each one.

Measure 1/2 t. soda into 1 cup fresh buttermilk (be sure to shake the buttermilk)

With mixer running at low speed, alternate buttermilk mixture with 3 cups plain, all purpose flour, beginning and ending with flour.

Add 2 t. vanilla flavoring, scrape sides of bowl and continue beating, now at medium speed for 3 minutes. Pour into prepared pan and bake for seventy minutes. At that time, test by sticking a cake tester, or broom straw if you don't mind, into the center of the cake. If said tester does not come out clean, bake for ten more minutes. Remove cake from oven and invert it onto a plate immediately. (Place plate upside down on cake and turn pan over. ) Cover lightly with foil, which will allow the cake to sweat and stay moist. When cake is cooler, you can cover it tightly so you can deliver it to a shut-in or maybe to a shut-out. Who knows, that cake and your smile might just be-----precisely their necessity!

Separation Of Church And State? Impossible!

Beulah Land

A place of simple beauty,
Unadulterated,
Unadorned and ofttimes underrated;
No society, no pomp and ceremony here,
Just cool water to drink of;free and clear.
No fancy organs, or choirs to sing,
But voices with love and fellowship ring.

No help from man has e'er been needed;
Only Christ Jesus has interceded.
He's left us the Church, the Gospel's free!
And oh thank God, it's enough for me.

A handshake and a fond embrace,
Real brotherly love is in this place.
No need for fancy dress to wear,
No one will notice, no one will care.
Each one is looked on as the other,
And not ashamed of "Sister," "Brother."

The old time way is all we know
And oft a happy tear will flow.
He's left us the Church, the Gospel's free

And oh thank God, it's enough for me!

I wrote these words in l975 and the passage of time and circumstance has only made me see more clearly the truth that is found in them. I believe that sometimes a convert can have a richer experience than even one born into a family of believers in salvation by grace alone.

In l955 when Brother Lonnie and I married, I had never heard of a church called Primitive Baptist, and so I thought that surely the more "up-to-date" (here unnamed) group with which I was affiliated was much preferred. I was much mistaken.

In my wisdom I thought that the best plan would be for us to alternate Sundays( wonder if anyone else has ever tried that)? One Sunday at my church and one Sunday at his church---Hah! Well, would you believe I was sprinkled at the Primitive Baptist Church? and very soon
there was a steady rain (thus proving the scripture) falling on me, and henceforth the TRUTH was written in my heart and woven into my life. Can it be separated from me ? No, it is a vital part of me no matter what state I am in and unless I lose my mind, it will forever be.

I am somewhat like Brother Lonnie in this respect: I have been in at least 39 states and several really foreign countries. Always , whether the state of happiness, of grief, of loneliness, and all other states, there is the abiding joy that accompanies the knowledge of the truth that is found among the followers of the Old Baptist faith at His church. Can I be separated from this? No, never!

"For I rejoiced greatly, when the brethren came and testified of the truth that is in thee, even as thou walkest in the truth.

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth."

My cup runneth over with joy unspeakable. My dear children and grandchildren walk in this truth and I trust and am persuaded that Susan, Ronnie, Jon, Amanda, James, Audrey, Emily ,Ryan, Harrison, Isabella, Will, Lonnie, Tammy, Amber, Graham, Aidan, Ann Riley, Mollie, Tim, Tabitha, Nathan, Ben, Tony, Ashley, Robert, Grace, Millie Rose, Andy, Tina, Ashley, Druanna, Rachel, Becky, Hugh, Sydney, Aubrey, Hughston, David ,Sherri, and John Anthony , in whatever state they find themselves, cannot be separated from the Church!

This picture is a good example of Brother Lonnie in a state of utter dismay. We were at a big meeting, (in yet another state) in the hallway of a hotel. A few groups of Old Baptists had gathered in the hall, meeting and greeting. As I walked toward Brother Lonnie, who was talking (yes, he was) with or rather to some folks who I had never met, he called me over to meet them. The perfect opportunity to wear my new nose, arose, and so as you may see from the look on his face, (he was well acquainted with his thorn in the flesh) he was very proud of me!

Separation of Church and State? Impossible!

SUPPER TIME

When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and Think of Things,
you find sometimes that a Thing which Seemed very Thingish
inside you is quite different when it gets out in the open and has other people looking at it.

.....Pooh

I think of all these things and they are so very dear to me, as I hope they are to you, dear reader. When I remember suppertime in our home I see us at the table together, and most of the time there was cornbread on the table to go with the peas or greens that we brought home from Middleton Creek. Our years at that precious Church hold cherished memories for us; the brethren graciously shared their harvest with us and their story could fill blogspots for many days. (As our preachers frequently say, "The Lord willing we'll come back to that another time.") If you possibly could set aside at least one, maybe two? days a week to sit down to supper with those in your home and anyone else who stops in (It seems like there was always somebody for supper) I believe it will quickly create a sweet time out for you all. Sitting down to supper together used to be required by family law and logic, but alas many obligations and activities preclude this delightful tradition.


"Come home, come home, it's suppertime, the shadows lengthen fast!" Of course, the children were playing outside, (you might have to explain that concept) and sometimes I had to call out twice, but strangely enough, when their DAD called, only one call was necessary. Anyway, whatever we had to eat, it was pretty much guaranteed that Tony would not like it; so along with the cornbread and peas, there were french fries. Remember?


Many of my memories of suppertime go back to my own childhood with my sisters and brother. At the time the picture within this picture was taken, we had not heard of french fries, and many days cornbread and milk were the only foods on the table. The pie safe on the wall always had milk in various stages. One pitcher held fresh milk, which the cow gave that morning (explain that process) and in which we crumbled our cornbread for supper. Another bowl held cream, which would be churned into butter, and still another jar was for the buttermilk that resulted from the churning process. Nevertheless, we had Supper, not Dinner. Dinner is at midday.

In the picture you can see these eager faces of long ago, each now and long since has his own table, (most likely not with cornbread on it) . There is Lucille (she has walked with kings and kept the common touch), Mary (our dear aunt Mae), John (a man for all seasons) and the waif in the pigtails is Nenie (to all of her coterie.)

So, since cornbread and suppertime conjure so many delights for me I hope you can find time to integrate both into your schedules. To that end I send you my encouragement and my cornbread recipe.

Preheat the oven to 450. Grease your pan generously with Crisco. This will make the crust crispy. You can use any baking pan or skillet, but you must grease it liberally or the bread will stick. If you will make cornbread often, try to dedicate an iron skillet to cornbread baking only.

After a few times it will become seasoned and you can just use a little oil in the bottom of it.

Measure 2 cups of self rising corn meal mix (Aunt Jemima, Martha White, or any name brand, not store brand) will do nicely. Add 1 measured cup of buttermilk (be sure to shake the buttermilk before you measure it), 1/2 cup of water, and 1/4 cup of oil to the cornmeal. Stir until well mixed and pour into prepared pan. Cook for twenty minutes and check. Cornbread should be slightly brown around the edges and appear to be done. Turn on the broiler, do not walk away, and remove perfectly browned and memory making cornbread from the oven.

Invert it onto a plate, get out the milk, and call them all in to supper; the shadows lengthen fast!

A MADCAP ADVENTURE

But I don't want to go among mad people; Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat:"we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad.

"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

Once upon a time,way down yonder in New Orleans, the paths of one young lady and a dashing young man met and merged (and that has made all the difference!)

This is the beginning of their story ; a beginning that defies all logic and reason (and my mother).

Brother Lonnie and his brother,Roy, and two of their cousins came to New Orleans to visit a cousin who had been in an accident. Since I lived next door to this hapless fellow, I spent a lot of time with him and thus was on the scene, a sitting duck, as it were. If you knew brother Lonnie you are aware that it was not long before he had cornered me in the kitchen and stolen a kiss. Now I, having stars in my eyes and rocks in my head, was the proverbial fly, gazing at myself in the looking glass. I'm sure you've heard the saying,swept off my feet, well that perfectly described the situation. Then and there, in that kitchen, in November of 1954, I hitched my wagon to a star ; and in retrospect I can say with clarity and conviction that this was my finest hour.

This was my mother's response: here paraphrased by the Queen." Now, I give you fair warning," shouted the Queen, stamping on the ground as she spoke; " either you or your head must be off, and that in about half the time! Take your choice!"

Well, in less than half the time (three months) we were off !! Thus begins our saga, our great adventure. And did we succeed? Yes! We did, indeed!

Biscuitology 101

You have brains in your head.

You have feet in your shoes.

You can steer yourself

any direction you choose.

--Dr. Seuss


I believe that anyone can be a good cook. It's all about the "want to" and the patience to try again. So if you want to make biscuits, don't hang up! Complete directions for my "world famous"(don't forget there is more than one world to consider--and this is one of the smaller ones) recipe are herein recorded. Please do not tamper with these instructions , as in using less fat or no butter, because the moment you do I cannot be responsible for the mutiny and carnage you will deservedly face. However, if you will steadfastly refuse to compromise, I will guarantee complete satisfaction. You must set aside all guilt , forget all the so called healthy rules, and go for it!

My advice (and I think it's good) is to always read the ENTIRE recipe before you get started.


Buy a good brand of self-rising flour, like Martha White or White Lily. In this instance, the store brand is not good enough. Believe me, I use store products when I can, but this is not one of those times. Be sure to get self-rising, the baking powder and salt are in the flour. Crisco shortening is the only one to use, and finally, my only concession to low fat is the buttermilk. Whole buttermilk seems to make the biscuits a little sour, and so I use low fat buttermilk.

Preheat your oven to 450 degrees. I don't measure the ingredients, and as you get comfortable with the process, you will be able to make more or less batter as you wish. I made these today so I could tell you how much to use, so start off with 3 level cups of flour and three spoons of Crisco,each about the size of a large egg. Using a pastry blender, cut the shortening into the flour until it looks about like coarse cornmeal. Measure 2 cups of buttermilk(be sure to shake the buttermilk because it separates in the carton). You may need a little more or less of the buttermilk, depending on the brand you buy. Some are thicker. Do not add it all at once, try one cup, then a little more until you can stir the dough smooth and there are no dry spots in it. Sometimes you might get the dough a little too wet, don't worry, you can work a little more flour into it later. Dump the dough out on a piece of waxed paper with about a cup of flour on it. The goal is to handle the dough as little as possible. With floured hands, try to turn the dough over once. If you can't pick it up because it is too wet, turn it a few times, adding a little of the flour each time. You can gently pat it to the thickness you prefer. Using a cutter of your choice, cut out biscuits and place in pan. If you can't pick them up, they are too wet from buttermilk. Fold in a little more flour. Turn the dough over and pat it again. Now is when you get to see the product of my second field of expertise, Photography. Our next posting will be a tutorial to help you navigate the internet. But I digress; your efforts should resemble this picture. If you have something that does not even remotely pass as dough, I will have to revisit my opening remarks.
You must carefully choose your pan. Black iron skillets work very well. Other than this, do not use dull pans, as they will burn the biscuits. Ordinary cake pans are great, and this 9x12 pan is my favorite. It once was shiny , so any shiny pan will do. DO NOT use a non-stick pan. Your biscuits will burn! If you want crispy bottoms on your biscuits, you must generously grease your pan with Crisco! I can cut about a dozen biscuits from this amount of dough, but that will vary with the size of your cutter. Melt about 1/4 stick of butter, and using a spoon, smooth it over each biscuit. The tops should be wet with no dry flour on top.

Bake the biscuits for about 20 minutes, then check to see if they are brown on the bottom (by gently lifting the edge of one with a spatula). Now turn on the broiler and do not walk away from the stove. Watch carefully and when they are as brown as you want them to be, take them out, turn the oven off and take them up . If they are in a round pan, you can turn them over on a plate, if not, be sure to turn each one over with a spatula, as they will get soggy if left too long on their bottoms. hmmm.
Please keep your responses, comments, threats and murmurings to a minimum. I can't take rejection or ejection.

I hope we can at least be friends after this.

Homemade Biscuits

"When you wake up in the morning,Pooh," said Piglet at last, "what's the first thing you say to yourself?"

"What's for breakfast?" said Pooh. "What do you say, Piglet?"

"I say, I wonder what's going to happen exciting today?" said Piglet.

Pooh nodded thoughtfully.





We always had a full, old fashioned breakfast in our home. I'm speaking now about the home that Brother Lonnie and I established on February 18, 1955. Our parents had lived their young years in a time when store bought bread was not available to them, and so homemakers made their own. My mother-in-law elevated the baking of biscuits and cornbread(and everything else she cooked) to a fine art.

Enter Shirley, who had moved with her family to the big city, and whose mother left biscuit making way behind in Copiah County, MS. A biscuit in my childhood would have been as unusual as a UFO sighting. So imagine what dread Miss Lydia must have felt for her baby boy
when he brought me home! I can't look back and say that I was a quick study, either. I know I was eager to please , I remember that, but I know now that the patience and tolerance that accompanies young love must have been called on many times. When I think back on my earliest efforts at biscuit making I can understand why he often asked for toast. To quote Brother Lonnie,"I said all that to say this," Don't give up; it takes practice and patience to cook everything when you don't know anything. This house could not contain the biscuits I have since made, and some will even say they pass, (even Miss Lydia might be proud of me). Every morning for fifty years Brother Lonnie had biscuits, eggs, grits or rice, and bacon or sausage if we had it-because he wanted that and because I loved him. Occasionally he would still ask for toast, but then I knew it was because he was, in his words,"burnt out on biscuits!"

So just in case you, dear reader, might be interested, one day soon ,The Lord willing, I will post my famous biscuit lesson on this very spot.