A Half Pound or a Pound and a Half?
Today is a good day to blog! Here I am sitting at my computer wondering who will read what I am about to write. When I think of the millions of people in the world, there is only one special person reading this, and it is you.
We moved from Missouri to Oliver Springs, Tennessee a year ago. We live in the foothills of the Cumberland Mountains and I can see the mountains from my window as I am on the computer. Even though it is November, it is a beautiful day and we’re enjoying the 70 degree weather. I’m sure it won’t last long as winter will soon be upon us.
You will see on my blog a story about Sammy the Skunk. If you have read something about my background, you will find how this storybook all began. These little animals that I have created have become real to me. I can see them talking, laughing, caring, getting into trouble, wondering what to do, as they live in a special place called the “deep woods."
I consider where we live here in Tennessee as being in the middle of the ‘deep woods’. A fox visits once in a while, a buck and his entourage of doe come by, a friendly raccoon comes every night for his dinner, an opossum shows up occasionally and of course, the sounds of other animals and birds can be heard at night. I feel fortunate to see the animals in their natural habitat.
Right after the great depression, my father was fortunate enough to find a job as a typesetter for a company in Muskegon, Michigan. My sister, brother and I did not really know that we were poor. Looking back on it now, I believe everyone that I knew was in a similar situation as my parents. The word “charging” was just a part of life, and the merchants in our town gave everyone credit if there was any evidence that it would be paid back eventually. I am going to tell you what happened to me when I was very young.
One afternoon mother told me I was old enough to go downtown to our neighborhood grocery store and get a half pound of bologna. As I skipped downtown I forgot the exact amount mother had told me. Did she say, “A half pound? Or did she say a pound and a half?”
When I arrived at the store I was asked what I wanted. Without hesitation, I replied, “My mother would like a pound and a half of bologna sliced thin, and charge it please!”
He looked at me questioningly but took the large bulk bologna out of the meat case, and started to cut. He kept cutting more and more and as I pressed my nose up against the meat case to watch him, I saw all the bologna that he was cutting. I knew immediately I had made a terrible mistake. I didn’t know what to do so I just continued watching him. My heart was beating fast as he wrapped up the meat and handed me a very huge package. He wrote up the charge slip and gave it to me. I quickly put it into my pocket. “Oh dear, I thought to myself, what am I going to do with all this meat?”
On the way home I noticed a tired old dog sitting under a tree. He was panting and as I approached him his tail began wagging. “Poor old dog. I bet you are hungry. You’d like to have some of my bologna wouldn’t you?” I was almost ready to give him some when I realized I had the charge slip in my pocket. Mother would surely know. I walked toward home very slowly with my huge package of bologna, not looking forward to what my mother would say.
When mother saw me she gasped, “What in the world do you have there?” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I handed her the large package of bologna. Mother looked at it and lovingly said, “Well, we’ll have a week of bologna! I can make bologna sandwiches, ground bologna, and anything else I can think of that has bologna in it!
Mother wasn’t angry with me. She actually laughed about it. I learned one thing that day. There was a big difference between a half pound and a pound and a half!
Well, that is just one of my childhood memories! I have many more to write about!!
Have a great day.
We moved from Missouri to Oliver Springs, Tennessee a year ago. We live in the foothills of the Cumberland Mountains and I can see the mountains from my window as I am on the computer. Even though it is November, it is a beautiful day and we’re enjoying the 70 degree weather. I’m sure it won’t last long as winter will soon be upon us.
You will see on my blog a story about Sammy the Skunk. If you have read something about my background, you will find how this storybook all began. These little animals that I have created have become real to me. I can see them talking, laughing, caring, getting into trouble, wondering what to do, as they live in a special place called the “deep woods."
I consider where we live here in Tennessee as being in the middle of the ‘deep woods’. A fox visits once in a while, a buck and his entourage of doe come by, a friendly raccoon comes every night for his dinner, an opossum shows up occasionally and of course, the sounds of other animals and birds can be heard at night. I feel fortunate to see the animals in their natural habitat.
Right after the great depression, my father was fortunate enough to find a job as a typesetter for a company in Muskegon, Michigan. My sister, brother and I did not really know that we were poor. Looking back on it now, I believe everyone that I knew was in a similar situation as my parents. The word “charging” was just a part of life, and the merchants in our town gave everyone credit if there was any evidence that it would be paid back eventually. I am going to tell you what happened to me when I was very young.
One afternoon mother told me I was old enough to go downtown to our neighborhood grocery store and get a half pound of bologna. As I skipped downtown I forgot the exact amount mother had told me. Did she say, “A half pound? Or did she say a pound and a half?”
When I arrived at the store I was asked what I wanted. Without hesitation, I replied, “My mother would like a pound and a half of bologna sliced thin, and charge it please!”
He looked at me questioningly but took the large bulk bologna out of the meat case, and started to cut. He kept cutting more and more and as I pressed my nose up against the meat case to watch him, I saw all the bologna that he was cutting. I knew immediately I had made a terrible mistake. I didn’t know what to do so I just continued watching him. My heart was beating fast as he wrapped up the meat and handed me a very huge package. He wrote up the charge slip and gave it to me. I quickly put it into my pocket. “Oh dear, I thought to myself, what am I going to do with all this meat?”
On the way home I noticed a tired old dog sitting under a tree. He was panting and as I approached him his tail began wagging. “Poor old dog. I bet you are hungry. You’d like to have some of my bologna wouldn’t you?” I was almost ready to give him some when I realized I had the charge slip in my pocket. Mother would surely know. I walked toward home very slowly with my huge package of bologna, not looking forward to what my mother would say.
When mother saw me she gasped, “What in the world do you have there?” Tears streamed down my cheeks as I handed her the large package of bologna. Mother looked at it and lovingly said, “Well, we’ll have a week of bologna! I can make bologna sandwiches, ground bologna, and anything else I can think of that has bologna in it!
Mother wasn’t angry with me. She actually laughed about it. I learned one thing that day. There was a big difference between a half pound and a pound and a half!
Well, that is just one of my childhood memories! I have many more to write about!!
Have a great day.
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