I Loves Me Some Greens!

 

 

 

 Traditionally, collards are eaten on New Year's Day, along with black-eyed peas or field peas and cornbread, to ensure wealth in the coming year, as the leaves resemble folding money.

~ from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Collard_greens

 

Maybe it's my southern heritage but I can't help it -- I love greens!!When I was a youngun my grandmother Nanny, born in 1900 and raised on a farm in North Carolina, was my role model collard cooker. I can still hear the valve shaking on my mother's pressure cooker while her pot of greens simmered to a delectable tenderness. Kale is my favorite followed by a good, down home mess of collards as pictured above in my recent plate from Dixie Bones Restaurant in Woodbridge, VA. Top off a well cooked and seasoned pot o' greens with a little dash of vinegar and I've died and gone to heaven. Eating greens in the presence of non-greens eaters can stir up comments like "Oh, gross. Please tell me you're NOT going to eat that! They stink and look nasty. Oooooo greeeeens...." Nothing deters me and heck, I recently read that kale is one of THE healthiest veggies you can eat, chucked full of antioxidants, vitamins and even considered to anti-inflamatory. Yummy and nutritious, too? A winning combination, I'd say! My husband enjoys greens along with me but our daughter Shannon is the only child that inherited the greens gene. I've discovered that adding a pinch of baking soda to the water in the cooking pot the secret to making greens tender. The addition of a few other ingredients help season them up just fine. (HINT: ham hocks) For a while my son Todd and I got on the green shakes bandwagon. You Tube is full of demonstrations for this, but these shakes are a blenderized concoction of bananas, frozen berries, a little sweetener and any kind of green leafy veggies. This packs a powerful glass of raw nutrition and as my two year old granddaughter might say, "Try it. You like it!"

Nanny's Peanut Butter Glasses

If I really begged her, Nanny would take her false teeth out and smile at me.

I never saw anything so funny in my life.

~ Carol Burnett

During the late 1950's my grandmother Nanny purchased Big Top Peanut Butter (which later became Jif) that was contained in reusable drinking [ice tea] glasses instead of the classic jar. When one became empty she washed it out and added another one to her growing collection. I clearly recall just how they looked sitting in her glass front cupboard.  As time wore on and both grandfolks passed away, the day came to clean out the cupboards and divide up all the kitchenware. My mom took the peanut butter glasses home with her but has since given them to me. One random day I even discovered additional ones for sale at a local thrift store, so now the count is up to 12. After doing a little googling, I discovered a website which sells discontinued/vintage glassware and this particular style sells for $5.99 each.
 
When I recently had a couple of girlfriends over for lunch, I climbed up to a high shelf in my own cupboard got those down for us to use. I felt like we were having a tea party! Drinking from those vintage Nanny glasses always takes me back in time just a tad.
 

The pressed glass is decorated with a diamond and fan motif on the sides of the goblet, and on the stem.

The bottom has a starburst motif.

The Telephone

Mr. Watson, come here. I want to see you.

~ Alexander Graham Bell's notebook entry of 10 March 1876 describes his successful experiment with the telephone. Speaking through the instrument to his assistant, Thomas A. Watson, in the next room, Bell utters these famous first words.

first black telephone



During my lifetime I’ve certainly seen many changes with telephones. In my youth I could have never ever imagined one day having a small, portable phone I would carry around in my pocket.

The telephone in the first house my parents lived in sat on a small table at the bottom of the stairs in the living room. One of the dining room chairs sat next to it for comfort when having a conversation. At that time my folks rented out a couple bedrooms and the placement of the phone was for everyone’s convenience. Of course, there was only one phone, a black rotary style. Most folks had that basic style and it was owned by the phone company. One of their renters was a mechanic who worked on cars down at the corner gas station. When he used the phone he would stand up, leaning against the wall with his greasy hand that, to my mother’s annoyance, left black hand prints.



updated rotary phone


When my family moved from Arlington to Oakton in 1955, we still had a similar black phone and a few years down the road we got a somewhat updated model in beige. In that house the phone line was in a corner of the dining room which provided some sense of privacy for those conversing. At my mother’s insistence many years later a sleeker princess style phone was added to the master bedroom. Mom says if the phone happened to ring at night, she was the only one who seemed to hear it and for convenience she wanted one on her bedside table.

Princess phone

For a few years we were on a party line with another person and had to listen for our special ring to determine if the call was for us or the other people. (Ernie recollects the ring in his rural childhood home was two shorts and a long…) Down in the boonies of North Carolina where some of my relatives lived, they always joked that you better be careful what you said during a phone call because with party lines, everyone in the countryside was listening. When Herndon was a tiny town where my grandfather lived for a while, he joked that a black man on his party line used to say, “Who’s dat say who dat when I say who dat?”

Long distance calling was expensive and only done out of necessity. When I was in college from 1969-1973 I actually wrote letters to home and rarely called. When I was a senior and had a car, I would always beat the system to let my mother know I got back on campus safely after being home for the weekend. I would call home collect or person to person to myself, then mom would answer and say I wasn’t home. In an underhanded way she got the message all was well. Sorry to cheat you, Ma Bell!

Sometime during the late 1970s or early 80s the telephone company decided homeowners should own their phones. Electronics stores began selling phones -- quite a new concept! Push button phones also came into vogue and seemed very modern.

The first phone Ernie and I had in our newly wed apartment was indeed a red a red push button model which sat in the living room. We also had an extension in the bedroom, a princess model. At our first townhouse we had a beige wall phone in the kitchen and a second extension upstairs in the master bedroom with a light blue princess phone. New houses in the 1970s began to be pre-wired for phone lines which did away with those old fashioned phone lines that previously lined the baseboards. Both of our successive homes were prewired and we had several extensions in each. What a far cry from my mother’s childhood when people maybe had one phone and those who had two were considered to be the well-to-do folks. As a matter of fact, my grandparents didn’t even have a phone until Mom was in her mid teens, about 1945.

Phones eventually became cordless. Gone are the days of long, twisty cords that we would stretch to their capacity while chatting. The handsets on those first cordless ones were heavy with an antenna. With time and modification they became more light weight and slender. When the internet came into being many folks had two separate phone lines so one could be dedicated to computer dial up. And what did we do without caller ID? What a great invention that has been and now I can’t imagine doing without it. In the old days we never knew who tried to call us when we were away from home but now with answering machines and services, we can have our callers leave messages if they so desire. That can be both a blessing and a curse!

Cell phones have made phone calling possible any time, any place. In fact, public pay phones have just about ceased to exist. The first cell phone Ernie had for work purposes came in a big, bulky zip bag. With time those, too, have become streamlined and smaller so that they can be carried around in purse, pocket or clipped to a belt. Even kids have phones which can create quite a problem in the classroom. And then there’s the bigger issue of people talking on their phones while driving which has, in fact, been outlawed in some locales. Cell phone etiquette is quite a hot topic in society since their use is so pervasive (almost non-stop and annoying...) Technology has advanced so much that our cell phones now have more memory and function than our first home computers! Cell phone functions include (but are not limited to) accessing the internet, sending text messages, snapping photos, recording movies, and downloading music.



pay phone -- a relic!


Last but not least, phone numbers have changed over the years. Mom says their first phone number in Washington, D.C. was DI (meaning District) + 4 numbers. In Oakton our first phone number was DU (for Dunkirk) 5-8932 which was then changed to all numbers 385-8932. My aunt and uncle’s number in Falls Church was JE (for Jefferson) 2-5984. Then 3-digit area codes were added to make the numbers here in Northern Virginia prefaced with 703. Our favorite home phone number of all times was in Fairfax on Ellenwood Drive -- 703-280-2222. Our friend Aubrey Minyard worked for the phone company and helped us acquire that number when we moved into that home in 1977. Fast forward to 2010 and give us a call at 703-938-6364. Hi, you've reached the Myers. We can't answer your call right now, so please leave a message and we'll get back to you as soon as possible. Have a great day! (If you can't reach us at home, give us a call on our cell phones -- Ernie 703-655-1198, Bonnie 703-655-1200.)



evolution of the cell phone





Boy, Was My Face Red!

Man is the only animal that blushes – or needs to.

-Mark Twain

I grew up attending Oakton Methodist Church, situated on Chain Bridge Road in the heart of Oakton, Virginia. Each Sunday during the preaching service the velvet lined brass plates were passed pew by pew to collect tithes and offerings. Some people threw in a little anonymous cash while others contributed their carefully prepared donation envelopes with a pre-determined pledged amount. My mother annually received a new box of envelopes and to this day contributes her offerings in that manner.

When there was a need to raise funds for a particular cause or project, the minister would plea for additional money from the pulpit. Perhaps there was need to refurbish some Sunday school classrooms or support a missionary in country far, far away. On one such occasion, I must have gotten annoyed at the repeated requests for money. The preacher was just doing his job the best way he knew how, but as a young teen I had heard enough. I removed one of the offering envelopes from its little holder on the back of the pew, inserted a nickel, and penciled on the front, “Here. This is all I have. Please take it.” When the plate was passed, I threw it in. As my Nanny would have said, “I had my way!”

But, no, no. That wasn’t the end of it. During the sermon the next week, the dear preacher commented to the congregation how wonderful it was that some dear soul who had but little had generously given all he or she had. Remember the story of the widow’s mite, found in the Bible in the gospel according to St. Mark? I’m sure our minister referred to that story about how the widow’s contribution of two mites was more than the rich folks who gave to the treasury in abundance, for she gave “…even all her living.”

I was mortified, prayed for death, and wished the floor beneath me would open up and let me slide in. I’m sure my face flamed bright red, like I was having a heat stroke. My little, innocent joke was taken seriously. Did I apologize? Hopefully I did, but time has dimmed that portion of the memory. To this day that embarrassing story provides my mother and me with a good chuckle, but I can feel the blush creep up my neck when I think back to that childish prank.

A Scentsitive Subject

A woman’s perfume tells more about her than her handwriting.

~Christian Dior

Have you ever stepped into a crowded elevator and suddenly been assaulted by someone’s cologne, aftershave or perfume? Have you ever hugged someone who has been a bit over zealous with their scent application? I’ve done that several times only to step away and find their unwanted scent clinging to my clothes. For sure one of my pet peeves involves those who wear too much perfume and leave an aromatic wake wherever they go.

I try to be careful and sure hope I haven’t offended anyone else who might be as scensitive as I am. I prefer light colognes over heavy perfumes any day and love a fresh, clean scent more than anything. Perhaps I should recount my personal history with scent to set the record straight.

I love the fresh scent of Johnson’s Baby Powder. Moms in the 1950’s used this after each diaper change but now the use of baby talcum is a no no. Oh, it’s okay for adults, but not for babies. I don’t think my 11 month old grandbaby has ever had her behind powdered. But I’d like to thank my mother for using it on me because I still love it. Let’s call that my first introduction to smelling good.

Other first memories of scent include bath soaps such as Ivory, Cameo, Sweetheart and Dove. My mother was a talcum powder user herself and always kept powder and a puff on hand to use after she bathed. I don’t recall the name of the scent, but it was light and flowery. When I was a youngster she also sold Avon products for a while and had lots of samples of cologne and perfume which were always fun to try out. One of my grandmothers, Mom Mom, used Evening in Paris perfume and I was always fascinated with the little cobalt blue vial it came in. One time she even gave me an empty bottle and that was a treasure to a young girl like me

When I was a freshman in high school a couple of kids in my study hall used to primp instead of study. They always intrigued me when they produced their bottles of Canoe or English Leather and gave each other a spritz. Since these two were the “popular” kids it seemed appropriate that they use two of the popular colognes at the time.

When I was a teenager someone gave me a bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume for a gift. I tried to like it but it just wasn’t for me. The lovely bottle looked nice sitting on my dresser scarf, but I’m sure I finally threw it out. Another gift was a bottle a spray cologne bottle of Estee Lauder. That was nice, tolerable, but a bit strong so a little dab went a long way. I used that off and on for a few years. When I was in college a roommate introduced me to the light fresh scent of Love’s Lemon cologne. I used a couple bottles of that before I came to the conclusion that I didn’t like smelling like lemons. I’m still not fond of fruity or spicey colognes. I don’t want to smell like vanilla either.

At some point I stumbled upon a cologne made by Coty called Musk. There are many variations of musk available, but the one by Coty is the best for me and my own body chemistry. That one has remained a favorite for a long time and I have used several bottles of that. I try to buy it when the Christmas gift sets go on sale at the end of the season, even though the regular retail price is not very expensive.

Another favorite I like to use especially in the winter months is the signature perfume from Tiffany’s. In 1992 I first set foot in a Tiffany’s store in New York City and came away with a sample fragrance card of that scent. For Christmas that year my husband gifted me the first of several bottles. Today I’m longing for fall and cooler weather so I can bring out my Tiffany’s. It does cost many cents, but my sensational husband knows it makes a scentsational gift for his scensitive wife!

Secret Ambition

Sometimes creativity is a compulsion, not an ambition.

-- Ed Norton

About a year ago I was waiting for my appointment in a nail salon and happened to pick up the January issue of the brand new Hallmark magazine that had just come out on the newsstands. As I skimmed through it I found a lovely article written about the joy of a perfect snow day – everyone at home, safe and warm, a fire crackling in the fireplace, lots of soft, cuddly blankets for snuggling, a book to read in a comfy chair overlooking a window to the outside world of white, and last but not least, an abundance of everyone’s favorite snack foods lining the pantry shelves. The article got me thinking about snow days I’ve experienced, and that prompted me to ask two of my children how they would define such a day. One thing led to another and before I knew it Todd and I were brainstorming about how we should write the Perfect Book Series of children’s books.

We reminisced at length about his childhood and days gone by and these memories surfaced.

Jay and Ann were two of Todd’s favorite neighbors who lived a couple doors down the row of our townhouse complex when he was little. They were a kind and loving older couple who handed out small bags of goodies to trick-or-treaters on Halloween and loved it when little children would stop over to visit their pets Muffin, Gypsy and Smokey. Always ready to lend a hand with some minor home repair project, Jay would stop over with just the right tool. Back in the blizzard of 1982 the snow was deep with huge wind swept drifts and Todd vividly recalls his dad telling him and his sister to be careful while playing outside because there were snow piles higher than their heads. Just about every Christmas season our family made the 5 hour car trip to see Ernie’s family down in SW Virginia. That holiday scene was filled with many cousins, aunts and uncles as well as mounds of gifts and food galore ---ham, casseroles, biscuits and peanut butter balls. The Christmas Eve tradition of getting together with my parents in northern Virginia continues today and we all eagerly anticipate the goodies in the Christmas stockings my mother gave us 35 years ago. The childhood memories go on and on!

We came to the conclusion that even though every child has unique experiences, most have memories of a special, perfect neighbor, snow day, or holiday they’ve experienced. Circumstances may vary, but childhood memories last forever. So, based on our collective memories here is a list of people or events that could each be the basis for an individual perfect children’s story: Halloween, Christmas, Easter, neighbor, teacher, friend, big sister/brother, grandpa/grandma, vacation, snow day or last but not least, pet.

Our ambition is to write these books. We’re not sure how we’ll accomplish the task, but the seed of desire is firmly planted in our minds and I hope that one we can make it grow.