Fruit cake was a big deal in my childhood. A lot of time and effort was put into gathering nuts and saving for it. The dates and raisins and other ingredients were bought and stored until it was time to prepare the batter. Attention to the day of baking was essential because it required three to four hours. A cookie cutter was put in the middle of batter so it would bake evenly and always at set temperature which hard to do on wood stoves!
The left over half was always taken to grandparents' dinner on Christmas Day. There it was sampled and discussed as were the others that aunts, sisters and relatives had brought -- all of them brave enough to try for Lizzie's quality of fruit cake. The ride home was the hashing over of whose was best, moist or tastiest. I don't remember another one being baked after I was about 12 years old, but I'm sure it was because of Grandma's stroke and the move off the farm into town and there were no more huge gatherings of all the family.
Dorothy Lynch helped me try it about a year ago, but that attempt told me I just didn't have the flair for it. This year, I bought one that I knew was close to what I was remembering.
Bob Webb has been teaching the class at the Wellness Center and reminded me that I hadn't written lately and fruit cake was on my mind that day.
Daylight Savings is in our life again. At least the election is over!
Quote from magazine I'm leafing through, "Life doesn't come with a do over card."
Have you felt our earthquakes from Oklahoma? It almost feels like when my two grandboys are telling me about these last football games! It's become too cold for me to sit through so they tell me about them afterwards.
I often become fond of my kids' in-laws so that's why I've been so pleased that Laurie's mother has moved here from Nebraska. Now Connor has two grandmas living side by side. She's a quilter but I had to give that up because of arthritis in my hand. But, I don't envy her having to learn all the street names and how to move form one area to another. I did that 45 years ago.
We've moved into our "over the river and through the woods to Grandmother's house we go" but we can rest after New Year's, hopefully!
A farmer man once said, "Growing old is not for cowards!"
'Till next time!
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Editors note: Edith Lammey has been a resident of the area for nearly 40 years. The opinions expressed are those of the writer. She can be contacted through The TIMES at 451-1196 or [email protected].
Editorial on 12/07/2016