NEWS FROM THE HILLS
We awakened to a winter wonderland Sunday morning when a spectacular snowfall covered our hills with a thick blanket of white. The landscape was completely obliterated by the snow, with softened contours and gently sloping banks sculptured by the hand of nature.
The tiniest twig in the forest was adorned with a puff of white, and the weeds and underbrush along the roadside sported branches hung with cotton balls. The boney limbs of leafless trees were outlined in white, while the branches of the hemlocks drooped gracefully under their burden.
Snowflakes swirled and drifted downward on this white world. It made me think of one of Mom’s old sayings, “Old Mother Goose is shaking her feather bed.” It was a magical winter scene, designed to thrill the youngsters and the child that still dwells in us.
Before too long, the atmosphere was ringing with the glad cries of children, bundled from head to foot in heavy coats, toboggans, and gloves. The pristine white of the snow was scored with sleigh trails, children’s boot tracks and outlines of angel wings.
Watching the children at play brings back vivid memories of the winter days of our childhood, and the fun we had we had when a big snow fell. Grabbing anything we could find to slide on, we headed for the nearest slope and rode with the wind.
We made snow forts, and had snowball battles, whooping and shouting as we pelted one another. When there were enough children, we tromped out a circle in the snow and played “Fox and Geese.” It has been many years since I’ve seen youngsters play this game.
After we were thoroughly tired out and nearly frozen, we would troop in the house. Shedding wet mittens, coats and boots, we would crowd around the open gas fire to get warm. Many times a sweet, spicy fragrance drifted from the kitchen. Mom would have a big pan of gingerbread ready for us. I can smell and taste it now, redolent with ginger and sweet with molasses. We would eat it with homemade yellow butter melting through it, or spread with sweetened applesauce.
A lot of things were made with molasses then, from ginger cookies to pulled taffy. A taffy pull was one of the highlights of winter. It seems that bought snacks have taken the place of these wholesome sweets.
Sharon Singleton wishes to thank the folks who responded to her request for molasses. Letters came from Lucille Stalnaker of Sutton, Carolyn Malcolm, and Mary Louise Moss of Oak Hill. She was able to obtain some from Bernard Rose of Birch River, and was quite happy with the product.
We received a gingerbread recipe that is over 100 years old from Christine Warden of Elk Creek, who was a school cook for over 20 years. Her daughter, Melanie Swisher, says of her mother, “I hope you enjoy these recipes from a very special woman. God has blessed us with a wonderful role model who just happens to be a fabulous cook.”
GINGERBREAD—from the kitchen of Sybil, Parlee, and Mate Hatfield
1 cup molasses
1 cup buttermilk
1 cup sugar
? cup shortening
1 teaspoon cinnamon
2 teaspoons baking powder
2 eggs
2 teaspoons ginger
1 teaspoon allspice
1 teaspoon cloves
1 teaspoon nutmeg
Add enough plain flour (approximately 7 cups) to make a soft dough.
I would bake it at 350 degrees in a greased, floured pan. This will bring back memories of childhood that are more than sweet.
We have inquiries that we hope some of our readers may be able to answer. Judy Hanger of Hinton found an old recipe in an estate sale for Coconut Chews that calls for three cups shredded coconut, one teaspoon salt, two teaspoons vanilla extract, and one can of Ten-B-Low. (Drop by teaspoonfuls on greased cookie sheet, and bake at 350 about 12 minutes.)
She is wondering, just as I am, what is Ten-B-Low?
I had some Louisiana recipes that called for a can of Milnot, and I was unsure of what that was until I found it in a supermarket. It was sweetened condensed milk.
Darrell Stockwell (originally from Clay County) is searching for the words to a song. He played the guitar for the Friend girls when they sang in different churches. The song he is looking for is called “How About You?” or maybe “How Did You Make it Through?”
In response to the column that was written a few weeks ago about dogs, I received a touching writing from Jean Lester of Iaeger, and also from Joyce Tucker Dean of Procious. It should touch the heart of all those who love their dogs.
A DOG’S PRAYER
by Beth Norman Harris
Treat me kindly, my beloved master, for no heart in the world is more grateful for kindness than the loving heart of me.
Do not break my spirit with a stick, for though I should lick your hand between the blows, your patience and understanding will more quickly teach me the things you would have me do.
Speak to me often, for your voice is the world’s sweetest music, as you must know by the fierce wagging of my tail when your footstep falls upon my waiting ear.
When it is cold and wet, please take me inside, for I am now a domesticated animal, no longer used to bitter elements. And I ask no greater glory than the privilege of sitting at your feet beside the hearth. Though had you no home, I would rather follow you through ice and snow than rest upon the softest pillow in the warmest home in all the land, for you are my god and I am your devoted worshipper.
Keep my pan filled with fresh water, for although I should not reproach you were it dry, I cannot tell you when I suffer thirst. Feed me clean food that I may stay well, to romp and play and do your bidding, to walk by your side, and stand ready, willing and able to protect you with my life should your life be in danger.
And, beloved master, should the great Master see fit to deprive me of my health or sight, do not turn me away from you. Rather, hold me gently in your arms as skilled hands grant me the boon of eternal rest—and I will leave you knowing that with the last breath I drew, my fate was ever safe in your hands.
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