Snail Mail

You know how sometimes when you think of certain people a memory comes to mind that is so clear and precise that you can almost reach out and touch them?  That happened to me yesterday. I was thinking about my grandmother and how she was the family ‘coordinator’ (for lack of a better word). She was an only child but grew up with lots of cousins and married into a big family. The matriarch of our family, she stayed in touch with everyone and passed along information from one branch of the family to another. Between the telephone and her kitchen table, she kept us all up on what was happening with everyone. She kept cards, stationery, and stamps right there at hand on her table and wrote notes almost every morning, passing along news and letting us know she was thinking about us. Her stamps were on a roll in a little wooden mailbox that a friend had made for her. Yesterday morning, I had the sharpest picture of her in my mind sitting at that table and writing a letter, the sunlight filtering through that big ole oak tree on her patio and coming through the window onto her.  I soooo wish I had a photo of her sitting there or was artistically talented enough to draw that picture I had in my mind.  Just some good memories there. 

She was born in the time before telephones were commonplace and letters were still the main way of communicating with others. Writing was a habit she developed early in her life. However, when telephones did become common place, she utilized it, regularly calling and receiving calls from family and friends all over the country. She never talked long because, at that time, those calls were long distance and cost more but family and staying in touch with them was important. Back then you paid per minute to talk on the phone, unlike today when you can talk two minutes or two hundred for the same cost.

Anyway, she would get the news from my great uncle’s family in California and pass it along to my great uncle’s family in Oklahoma when she talked to them a little later that day. Or, more often, unless it was time sensitive, she would relay it by letter within the next few days. Of course, it would take a week or so for the letter to arrive and essentially be old news by then, certainly by today’s standards. No one minded, though, because that’s just how it was. Important or big news such as a death in the family or the birth of a child would certainly be shared by telephone, but details and things such as an engagement or pregnancy might be revealed by mail.

Her address book was kept up to date continuously and if you needed an address for anyone, she was the one you asked. They were all written in pen and when it changed, she would mark through it and make a new entry. She remembered birthdays, anniversaries, doctors appointments, and pretty much any big event because she wrote it all down in a big calendar (we’d call it a planner today) she kept on that kitchen table with her letter writing supplies. Now, we have all of that info at our fingertips in a phone the size of one of the envelopes she would mail a card in back then.

She loved getting mail as much as she enjoyed sending it. Just like a kid, her eyes would light up when she spotted a hand addressed envelope and a fun stamp in her mailbox. While she usually used the flag stamps that came in a roll, she would also occasionally buy a sheet of fun stamps to use on her letters because it made them fun. I loved getting mail from her with unusual stamps on the envelope. She loved stationery and pretty note cards but would just as easily write you a note on a piece of notebook paper if that’s what was handy. One thing that I never realized until I started thinking about this today is that she didn’t care that her stuff was out on the table and not put away out of sight. She wanted it accessible so it was easier for her to write every day. It was right there where she ate all of her meals within easy reach and she made it a habit that she didn’t give up until she had to because she couldn’t write anymore. She was a smart woman and knew how to get things done!

With the technology that we have today where we can send a text or an email and get a reply in a matter of seconds, letter writing is fast becoming a lost art. My cousin said something on Facebook the other day about missing writing and receiving letters. (I’m sure he was the recipient of many a letter from my grandmother, too!) It motivated me to sit down and write him a letter…granted, it was typed on my computer but it was a letter. That I put in an envelope and mailed. With a fun stamp. I enjoyed it and think I’ll do it again soon! I also think I’ll find me a basket and put my letter writing supplies in it and find a place to put it where it will be handy for when I have a few minutes to jot a note to someone. I may even pull out my old fashioned address book and update it!

Letters are visits when friends are apart.

Family Treasures and Peach Cobbler

I’ve been wanting some gumbo for several days. Today, when we woke up to a rainy, gray, dreary day, I decided it was a good day to make gumbo but I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up a few things first.

As soon as I walked in, I saw this big ole display of Chilton County peaches. Chilton County, Alabama is known for their peaches and having grown up in Alabama, I am quite familiar with them. I grew up eating them and although I’ve had some wonderful peaches all over the world, there’s just none like the ones from Chilton County in my mind. Anyway, when I smelled them, I had this overwhelming craving for peach cobbler. So, of course, six of them found their way home with me.

I have this old, somewhat beat up pan that belonged to my great-grandmother. It was her cobbler pan. Now, I was so blessed to know three of my eight great-grandparents and this great-grandmother is one of them. She lived with my grandparents and I have such wonderful memories of her. She had this jar of buttons that she would let me play with, stacking and matching, and counting them endlessly. I’d pick one out and she could tell me exactly where it came from. What dress, skirt, shirt, or jacket it had been on. That always amazed me. She would let me lie down on the sofa next to her and put my head in her lap and she would count my ribs. It tickled and I would giggle and squirm and she would get tickled at me. Such sweet memories!

Although I don’t use that pan very often, I decided to use it today. Not too long ago, I came across a few recipes from my grandmother that I had forgotten about and one of them was her peach cobbler recipe. I pulled it out and got busy. I peeled those peaches, and put them in that pan and made the crumbly topping. Then, I sprinkled it on top of those peaches and put it in the oven. Y’all…..that is the best cobbler I’ve ever made. Even KB was impressed. He had his with vanilla ice cream on it and he hummed when he took that first bite.

I love that I have these family treasures; the pan and the recipe, and the wonderful memories that they bring to mind. There’s something about using a decades old pan and recipe that brings comfort and hope, and just makes you feel good, knowing that you’re carrying on a tradition that ties you to the generations that went before. One day, I’ll pass that pan down to my son or daughter. I have a feeling that pan has a lot more cobblers to be made in it!

Nanny’s Peach Cobbler

6 ripe peaches, peeled and sliced

1 stick of cold butter 

1 cup self-rising flour

1 cup sugar

Put one TBSP of melted butter in the pan. Layer the sliced peaches in the pan. Mix the rest of the stick of butter with the flour and sugar. Crumble it all together. I use my hands to mix it, smushing the butter into the flour and sugar until it’s sort of mealy. Then sprinkle it all on top of the peaches. Do not stir. Bake in a 350 degree oven until done, about 45 minutes. Serve warm with ice cream if desired. 

Food is the ingredient that binds us together.