~Recollections by Mary Elizabeth Bloodsworth, visiting my mind/heart lately~

 

 

 

    Childhood treasures/memories that bring smiles to me, wow this woman, me, an elder now.  

 Children running around, playing games of made up adventures, myself (Mary Elizabeth

  Bloodsworth ) always the leader, the captain, my little sister Lilly Pearl trying to keep up in

  these imaginary games. (I smile but, kinda sad, as I recall, because my cousins and I thought

  it was fun to hide from her ) Maybe, she would call. (early on Lilly was unable to pronounce

                                                  my name Mary)

​

​

 

   The grown ups would be setting up the tables, under the biggest tree, I had ever seen. The women folk in the kitchen, the wood stove, hot, hot, they mixed, chopped, rolled out dough, lard, lots of lard, hands shaped the biscuits, corn bread filled pans, the tables out side would bend, under the weight, wow, fried chicken, so tasty as to seem, " melt in your mouth", heavenly mashed potatoes, fresh from the garden, okra, peas, tomatoes, and so much more, prize worth cocoanut cake, banana pudding, gallons of ice tea, kool aid, and White lightening, and home brew. Yep. My mama, Lillie Bell, gonna whip those young-uns, iffen they don't listen to her, our uncles, Doodle, and Footsie Bloodsworth, (feeling their liquor) laugh, ( an infectious laugh) as they tell mama," ah Lillie Bell let them alone, they'll be here when it's time to eat" Yes we take our places, big table for us young'uns, an even bigger table for the grown ups. Talking, laughing, joking, passing pans, bowls, platters around, Hours pass, the clatter of, spoons, forks, knives, fill the air, then having had their fill, everyone sighs, contented, declaring, " now that's what I call a good meal" One by one, those who play will pick up various musical instruments, start strumming, readying the fiddle, etc, etc, soon we all will be singing, singing and dancing, ol timey hyums , country, and tare outs on blue grass. Music making, flirting, fishing, yes that's what they loved, ( And banana pudding) For awhile the hard work of farming, was eased, in toe tapping and the strange clatter of someone playing the spoons. Yes that is our relatives, rich in history, poor in fare. ( More Later )

​

​