Friday, August 9, 2019
As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
I suffer from nostalgia, even in people I do not like, I get to thinking about things from my childhood and I begin to smile, not that I miss things so much, but just how things were.
In the thrift store the other day I came across a big metal spoon. These things are about 2 feet long and they are an interesting memorabilia, as they originated in the 1800s for women who had to stand back and away from large hearths or open fires. Things needed stirring whether lard or soup, and a big spoon was always the ticket to keep from being cooked yourself.
This one was 80 cents and if you look close, you will see the end is worn off, and that is what makes me smile in the nostalgia of it, because these spoons were created by old German women, who had too cook on a wood cookstove. For those not familiar with the realities of this device, the entire top had to heat up, and there were just two temperatures in NOT HOT and HOT, hot was as in scalding, render things black in a few seconds. That is why these old women had to stand by that hot stove, in their long dresses, those litard hosen, weighing in at 250 pound, and stir that food, as food was a luxury in you did not waste it as it was too hard to come by.
My Gram, had a spoon like this, a short one, which I have, and it is worn flat on the edge too. Do you realize how many times you have to scrape a bottom of a pan to get a spoon to wear off? I have never worn one down, so it must be a hundred thousand turns.
All that metal went into the food and never hurt anyone, but those old spoons were a trademark of these old German women, and it makes me smile every time I see one.
This one was a bit different, in I have seen stamped spoons, enamel spoons and iron with a aluminum coating on it, but this one is pure aluminum. It is light as a feather and I bet the old gal who had this one kept her apron wound around it, dropping whatever shit was in that apron in the pudding, as aluminum gets hot on one end as much as the other.
I remember one day when I was 5. Grampa was out pruning a Whitney crab, and had his big old yellow jack knife filleting things and he slipped and cut his wrist. Gram was there, so was Ma and my sister, but Grampa drove us all home to where they lived with Gram's filthy apron wrapped around it.
That woman would have everything from eggs, chicken shit on the eggs, dirt from garden stuff, to probably what she cooked last Christmas on that apron. It could stand and salute on it's own.
When we got home, I remember Gram dumped a bottle of Mercurochrome into that open wound. The old guy got white as a sheet and almost passed out. Damn that must have hurt. That was all the doctoring there was though, as I doubt he took the day off, and by Sunday it was not an issue to be thought of.
Just goes to show that all kinds of shit, including not supposing to dump Merc into open cuts didn't hurt them old boys one bit.
So that is why I get nostalgic. I remember the horror stories and how much I really never cared for Gram as she was a cold old fish. Some of my worst memories are of interactions with her and that spoon I got just gets me smiling, which is a Brier Patch insanity, as the reason you smile is you are glad you will never have to go through that shit again.
I just don't know why children or grandchildren do not keep old shit spoons like this. Not like you can't hang em in the garage and not pay attention to them. If this one was stouter I would use it to dig out pocket gopher wholes like beloved Uncle did......course he broke the end off of Gram's worn out spoon and had to braze it back on. They were really not made for digging out gopher holes.
When I get rich and get my man shack for girls, I will probably put the spoon out there. Probably use it to rap problem children on the head and dogs on the ass, as you never hit a dog on the head or they won't come to you and children are best thinking they don't want to be around you in the first place.
Worked great with me and Gram, as I never wanted to be around her and she never wanted me around. Could have left me with a broke toaster oven and that oven would have been more fun and attentive than that woman ever was.
Yes nothing like nostalgia and spoons. 80 cent buys one whole lot of pleasure and the never answered question of, "So you knew you were wearing the damn spoon out Gram, so why in the hell did you keep doing it as spoons were expensive even if you didn't give a rip snort about the kids".
I probably paid about the same price that this old gal paid for it new.
You know if they made these things of like steel and lead filled, they would make one hell of a mace to keep in a vehicle.
Make one hell of a coyote concussion device.......did I ever tell you the time time Uncle decided to save bullets and blood, and knock coyotes out and then break their necks? I guess you bend the head back over the back and it snaps the spine, well in most cases, but he got hold of one yote that came to, and the neck would not break.
Seems he couldn't let go for being mauled, and the yote was not cooperating in struggling, so it came down to the old guy finally got the coyote wore down before he wore out, and the neck snapped with enough bending.
Is why I hit em so damn hard that the lights go out and blood come out of the nose and ears. I prefer it coyote blood instead of my own blood. For fox you stomp on the chest then and that finished em off. Use a trowel for that, is like a spoon, but no edges wore off on that as Gram did not get near it...although Uncle's trowel is a Yoho and he busted the handle off on that. Apparently he did pop them yotes pretty hard too to get that kind of result.
As I said, nostalgia.