Grandma Daisy

My Grandma Daisy had ten children, eight boys and two girls. Her oldest son died at age twenty-one of uremic poisoning, one baby boy died just after it was born.  She was a big strong woman raised in Georgia, cotton picker and farmer.  She ruled with an iron fist.  She was a rock.  She told it like it was.  No bull, no games.  She never wore pants, never said bad words, never said the Lords name in vain, never said the word goodbye to family and friends.  She always wore dresses that she made herself with an apron on top, always went to church every Sunday morning, always cooked Sunday dinner, always demanded respect, and always took care and loved her family.  That's her sitting at the right end of the table.

On weekdays she started cooking at six o'clock in the morning, had all her chores done by noon and then she'd take a nap.  She washed clothes on Monday, heavily starched and ironed them on Tuesday, and I'm talking about ironing everything which included all the linens, sheets, pillowcases, tableclothes. 

Remember this?

                                             Wash on Monday
                                             Iron on Tuesday
                                             Mend on Wednesday
                                             Market on Thursday
                                             Clean on Friday
                                             Bake on Saturday
                                             Rest on Sunday

Women used to follow this routine years ago. I remember she had dishtowels like these.

She had my dad or my uncles take the mattresses outside a few times a year to air them out and let the sun shine on them all day long. She used to use a wringer washer like this and didn't want to give it up when the new washers came along. And she never liked using a dryer.  She loved hanging the clothes outside on the clothesline.

 

The food was put on the table around five and what a table it was.  It was wonderful comfort food, for hard working men who arrived home after a hard days work with a real big appetite. Sweet tea in glass pitchers on each side of the table.  Fried chicken, fresh string beans, sweet potatoes, homemade biscuits, real butter and homemade apple pie. 

You never said a bad word in front of her, not unless you wanted to get your mouth washed out with soap.  And every Saturday she would line up all the grandkids in her kitchen and give them a big spoonful of "sulfur and syrup", powdered sulfur mixed with Alaga pure cane syrup. It was a very thick paste and talk about something that would make you gag!  She claimed that it built up our blood.  The sulfur looked like this.  You could buy it at the drug stores back in the day.

And this is the syrup.

Imagine combining the two and what it looked like.  All I can say is that was like swallowing a big spoonful of mud.  I must say, me and my cousins are a healthy bunch.

Here she is in the middle of her four sons and two daughters.

Her birthday was the 18th, and I was remembering the good old days.

I Wish You Love and Grandma Memories,

Joyce