My paternal grandmother was born in 1914. As you can imagine, she lived through quite a great deal. She was in high school when the Great Depression hit, and she had to drop out to work full-time as a waitress to support her unemployed, divorced father. Living through that decade permanently changed my grandma and ingrained habits in her that lasted until her death. Growing up living next door to her and seeing her on a daily basis, I sometimes thought she was cheap. I didn't realize at the time how much her childhood experiences shaped her later life--I didn't know that was the reason she kept everything and clutched onto her money even though she had plenty.
Although I was rather disappointed as a child when I received a mere $5 bill from Grandma for my birthday, growing up with her taught me a lot, especially now that I look back and reflect as an adult. She taught me, for one thing, to enjoy the simpler things in life. Although she wasn't poor, she did not live high on the hog. Grandma didn't shower me with expensive gifts and spoil me rotten with things. She did, however, shower me with love and spoil me rotten with stories from her very eventful childhood, lessons on how to make homemade pies, and life lessons I'll never forget. My grandma was a very special lady, and I miss her dearly to this day.
One of the things my grandma taught me isn't exactly very profound. But it's something that has stuck with me for my entire life. It's one of the very, very simple pleasures I owe to her: bread, butter, and sugar. As I sat down and enjoyed some today, I thought back to the many afternoons I spent in my grandma's kitchen when she would feed me this sweet treat.
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Whenever Grandma would make me some bread, butter, and sugar, she'd tell me a story--a tale of two grandmothers. When she was a little girl, her maternal grandmother was very rich. Even when so many people in the area weren't even well-off, this woman had money to burn. She had everything anybody could ever want. Except love for her grandchildren. She was quite a mean old woman, in fact, and my grandma never wanted to visit her. On the other hand, her paternal grandma was the polar opposite--very, very poor. Dirt poor. Didn't have a dime to her name. But she loved my grandma with all her heart and treated her very well. Since she was so poor, though, there was never enough to eat in the house. So when my grandma and the other children were hungry, her grandma would make some bread, butter, and sugar to feed the entire house. This sweet treat I was about to enjoy, Grandma would remind me, used to be much more than a treat--it was all she had to eat for much of the day at one point in her life.
And, with that, she would hand me my bread, butter, and sugar. And I would feel guilty after hearing that story, but boy, did I enjoy my treat.
To this day, when I'm feeling a bit hungry but don't know what to eat, I'll often make myself some bread, butter, and sugar. For those of you who haven't had this (I suspect there are at least some of us who have), it's as simple as it sounds. You need three ingredients: bread, butter, and sugar (duh).
Just take out a couple of slices of bread, because you're going to want at least two. Then, spread the butter or margarine (or, as my grandma would call it, oleo) on them.
Then, just pour on the sugar, which will stick to the butter.
Shake the excess sugar off and enjoy.
Simple as that. A sweet treat has never been easier or cheaper.
Of course, since I'm trying (in theory) to watch what I eat, perhaps I should lay off the bread, butter, and sugar. But I don't think that's going to happen. There's too much nostalgia in it for me.
TOP COMMENTS
August 12, 2012
Thanks to tonight's Top Comments contributors! Let us hear from YOU
when you find that proficient comment.
From mapamp:
This comment by Beltane is certainly a top comment!
From bronte17:
irate notes that Alan Simpson has it backwards with his vicious lie that "Social Security is a milk cow with 310 million teats..."
Our national experience instead, as irate says, is this:
It's not that government is a milk cow with 100 million teats, but the working stiffs are 100 million milk cows with one teat that bastards like Simpson are milking for their own profit.
From the excellent diary post They're "earned benefits" not "entitlements" by RFK Lives.
From Dave in Northridge:
This really isn't kosher, but I can think of at least two Kossacks whose comments are routinely longer than this diary, and had this been left as a comment it would CERTAINLY qualify, so here is ProvokingMeaning's diary for today.
From Noddy:
Puddytat "coins" a new term for Ryan in the comments of GreenPA's diary.
twigg ponders thefate of doctors under the Affordable Care Act in his diary, The Ignorance. It Burns!.
From gchaucer2:
I really hope there is a way to give houyhnhmn some love in Top Comments for this hilarious observation:
The comment is a response to a hidden one which suggested I made up a dialogue with an old friend. I know it is probably not "legal" to use something that reflects back to a hidden comment. But -- the funny factor and the fact that I could actually spell houyhnhmn should be enough for a bit of recognition -- even without linking to the comment.
It's gchaucer for cripes sakes
if she were going to make up dialogue, it would be totally believable.
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TOP PHOTOS
August 11, 2012
Enjoy jotter's wonderful PictureQuilt™ below. Just click on the picture and it will magically take you to the comment that features that photo. Have fun, Kossacks!
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