Sunday, September 8, 2019 — I’ve been writing my biography and thought for today’s entry I would share a bit of it here. My paternal grandmother had a small dairy farm at her home in Cleveland, TN. She sold milk, eggs and butter to customers who would call to place their order and then some time later, drive up to Granny’s back yard and pick up their order. Sometimes, she’d send one of we three girls (I was the middle child of three girls) out to deliver items to the customers and to collect the money from them.
From Chapter 5… “So many memories of life on Granny Smith’s farm there in Cleveland, TN – There was a huge cherry tree in the back yard, and one day we happened to be visiting and the cherries were ripe for picking. I remember being helped up into the cherry tree by Granddad Hoffman so I could pick the ripe cherries that were out of reach from below; I picked a few cherries but then began eating the cherries more than picking them, and it made Grandpa mad. He had to coax me to come down out of the tree. Lighting struck that tree years later and it was destroyed.
Granny’s farm was across a dirt road from a pig farmer. Every Sunday was butchering day and it used to make Granny Smith really angry because she’d come home from church to the sound of pigs squealing and it would totally disrupt her calm, happy feeling. Sundays were also special days for dinners, usually fresh fried chicken. Granny would go out into the chicken yard, stand there for a bit looking at all of her chickens and finally pick one out. She’d catch that chicken and quick as anything, she’d wring it’s neck and lay it down on the tree stump there in the yard and whack its head off with the hatchet that was stuck there in the stump. Then she’d toss the chicken away from her and watch it bleed out all over the yard. Once it quit moving, she’d pick it up and begin plucking the feathers off. I’ve only ever had fried chicken as good as Granny Smith’s one time in my life, and that was at Tom’s Chicken Shack in Ramona, CA. It was like being back in Granny’s sun room, just off the kitchen, eating her fried chicken. And there would always be creamy gravy, with mashed potatoes. And biscuits!!! Loved her biscuits–she had these huge wood bins that came out from under the kitchen counter. The bins held her flour and sugar. I remember one day I pulled the flour bin out and it tipped over too far, tossing flour all over me and the floor. She’d put 100 lbs. in the bin just recently, and I wasn’t prepared for the weight coming at me. I never touched the bins again. LOL”
Always remember that you are loved. Be safe, be well and please be happy. Be sure to tell those you love that you love them. Blessings to all…