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Pit Barbeque…

 

Three Barbeques, Two Fish Fries, One Pancake Breakfast, a Wedding and a Funeral- all in one day. No time to change in between…if this was a fashion blog I could tell you what to wear- a black dress. Fill a bag with accessories, several pairs of shoes, make up, a damp rag and deodorant. It got me through and we had the time of our lives! I don’t hold a world record on attending events- my husband probably deserves a medal.  We’ve gone to so many Barbeques, we might claim expert status on tasting barbeque. Mastering a pit is an entirely different skill.  Real Pit Barbeque is cooked 10-12 hours…this isn’t backyard grilling.  There’s no doubt in my mind that American Pit Barbeque originated in the South- poor rural folks, fattened a few pigs- so  fresh pork was cheap and available.Raw Peanuts

Alabama’s own -George Washington Carver  taught the art of growing peanuts right here in Alabama; Smithfield Hams of Virginia were known for fattening their hogs on peanuts.  What fattens a hog, fattens human beings, y’all. Boiled or roasted peanuts are almost always found near Pit Barbeque;  shells strewn on the floor add ambience and soak up the grease.  Most farms had a smokehouse for hams and bacon. No part of the hog was wasted. Fresh pork was Pit Smoked to feed harvest workers on large farms, to celebrate or commiserate. The love of barbeque knows no social class. We all love it.

Southern Pit Barbeque ventured off the farms to become Backroad joints, Dives and Honky Tonks. The old ones had a ‘risque’ feel to them. My mother once whined – ‘We can’t take these children in there! Folks are drinkin’ and no tellin’ what all..’; which made the joint even more appealing to children and menfolks. I heard a BBQ Pit Master say: ‘I feed this pit some whiskey every night.’  I’m not sure what he was talking about- however, the combination did exist. You can’t get good barbeque in a chain restaurant– the quality goes down by miles. In fact, folks will drive for miles down blacktop, gravel, or dusty red roads out in the middle of nowhere- just to find a real Pit Barbeque joint. If you’re willing to drive backroads-

  •  scented with Loblolly pines,
  • look for hand written signs-
  • roll down the windows-
  • follow the fragrant wood smoke- That’s where real Pit Barbeque is cooked.
  • Rusted out trucks and dented cars are a good sign;
  • Then look for grimy folks who tend the pit round the clock.
  • BBQ joints are often charred shacks or a blackened concrete block buildings- usually near a small creek to douse the flames.

I have a letter written close to 50 years ago, telling about a shack, a hot plate with a pot of dried beans and a ‘Still -right ready to make up whiskey’  when a fire broke out.  I’m just sayin’ – they had to augment their incomes and somebody must have been feeding a pit somewhere.

Pit Masters are a rare breed– those men are browned to perfection either by birth, the hot southern sun or a combination of both. They are soot streaked, well greased, smoke tinged, and speckled with burn marks up and down their arms. Their aprons are soiled and smeared. Listen to me- never trust a Pit Master who has on a starched white apron– he hasn’t been near a Real Pit and don’t know nothin’ ’bout it!  Pit Barbeque was the usual fare for private parties, political rallies, mysterious Barbeque Clubs, fundraisers and Church Picnics. I’m not sure how church picnics got on the short list– maybe a pit man escaped serious injury, the revenuers or was alone one spooky moonlit night and found Jesus. Of course, there have been many slurs against those of us who enjoy barbeque- calling us hogs, saying we root around or grunt like a pig when we eat it. We endure the ribbing because we know how good Pit Barbeque is for the soul- Southerners can get downright Evangelical about it.

Great Pit Barbeque is born in hot fiery coals. Don’t let anyone tell you- the secret is in the sauce. Whole families would argue me down about this- but if the meat isn’t good, you can’t cover it up or smother it with any amount of sauce and make it taste good. Now here’s how to order-

  • Fold your hands in prayer;
  • Contemplate whether you want it sliced, pulled or chopped; Amen.
  • Baptize it with whatever sauce you like: Red, White, Vinegar based, Sticky, Thin or Thick; Hot, Mild or fire on the tongue-hot! Your choice.
  • Snort, snort, uh-ah, grunt, Soo-ey!  Sorry about that hog-callin’,
  • I like my Barbeque – Chopped Outside Lean- if you don’t understand the lingo, I can’t help you!

One of my favorite local joints is affectionately called the Texa-que, a combo gas station and Pit Barbeque. The real name is Butts to Go. The blackened cylinder pits, the stacks of hardwood, the fragrant smoke billowing up- slows you down, your stomach makes guttural sounds. Butts to Go also smokes hams and turkeys which are to die for; wonderful comfort food for a bereaved family. Spicy hot food, like Pit Barbeque is considered inappropriate funeral food. But if you’re ever on I-20E toward the Talledega Super Speedway,  watch for the signs- pull over, you’ll be glad you did.

From the first bite you’ll know – you’re either a Hog or Evangelical about Pit Barbeque by the sounds that come out of your mouth. I’ve said it before: Southern Food Tales are part passion, part potion and part outright lies. Butts to Go is the real deal.

Love y’all, Camellia

* A big thank you to Wade Reich for allowing me to use his Butts to Go logo and website photo from http://www.buttstogo.com

All others are AOL Images, if any are not public domain or copyrighted  I will be glad to make the corrections or remove the photographs.

Check out http://www.smithfieldhams.com too!

 

Posted on by Camellia's Cottage · 8 Comments

Grocery Shopping after Vacation…

imageWhen I get back from vacation, I start the ‘wash’ and then go to the grocery store. As you know, strange things happen at my grocery store. Other people tell me they go without incident, except one friend who was asked on a date not once but twice in the cheese department! She’s a lady of a certain age as I am- so that was remarkable. I have not experienced that yet, however- today’s trip was interesting as usual. Since there was barely anyone in the store, I was sure this would be one of those rare, unremarkable trips.

I was trying to pick out some bananas when someone came up behind me and said- ‘I bought bananas last time and they were tasteless.’ I smiled and said ‘Well you know, we have to have our bananas- for cereal or maybe a banana pudding.’ ‘If you’re talking banana pudding, they might work, but the Granny Smith apples have more taste.  I pushed off thinking how tasteless it was to make comments over what I was buying! I got over to the floral department- nice lady there. ‘How are you?’ Oh fine, how are you? ‘I’m burning up!’ Really? it feels pretty cool in here to me. ‘Well, trying to work under these heat lamps is about to put me under the cooler!’ Honey, I’m sorry…have you told management?

And by the way, while you’re at it can you tell them they are out of Diet Rites? I have to get those because I’m allergic to aspartame and they don’t have any Diet Rites. ‘Allergic to aspertame?’ Yes. A guy from another cola company who was stocking- said, ‘Diet Rites don’t have aspartame? I’m allergic to it too.’ The flustered floral department lady said ‘What happens to y’all?’ Cola man said, ‘It makes my lips go numb.’ I am astounded. ‘It just causes some tingling and numbness but I’ve never had my lips go numb.’ He swore it did. Well, who am I to judge?  ‘ I used to drink these’ and pointed to an offender. He said, ‘I’ll tell you what happened to the mother of a friend of mine. She loved those, she opened a can and something hit her lips and it was a tiny mouse!’ What?!?!? ‘Yep, they wanted to settle out of court for millions- but she told ’em she’d take 2 million and a case of those colas per month for the rest of her life!’ I shook my head and thought how brave that woman was, to put her life on the line every single time she popped a can. I shoved off thinking that was my ‘incident’ of the day…no, wrong.

The floral department lady called out to me, ‘Camellia?’- ‘Yes?’ ‘Did you know that Granny Smith died?’ ‘I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about but I sure am sorry to hear it.’ ‘Well she lives over on Shanghai Road and worked as an OB/GYN nurse for …oh a long time.’ Really?  ‘Yes, there will be a mob tonight at the funeral home, she had 47 great grandchildren.’ Now, how old was this delivery room nurse?  ‘She was 94, had a good long life.’ Yes, she did. ‘And a memory like a top until the last few years, knew the names of every single one of those great grandchildren.’ Now, isn’t that something? But she wasn’t through, told me who was related by marriage to the Nurse…my ankles were twitching thinking about those tiny mice floating around in those diet colas.

She had more to relate and had  obviously recovered from the heat lamps. She started telling me about another lady who was on her deathbed. ‘Yes, two days ago,  called the family in and told them she had about 24 hours to live.’ Her daughters were horrified because for one thing- this lady is one of the best cooks in the county and they just knew she was taking her recipe for pound cake, egg custard pie and coconut cake to her grave, among other things. She never wrote anything down or if she did, there was always a critical ingredient missing. ‘But she’s lingering on, not dead yet…and the food! oh my when word got out that she was dying- offers to make devilled eggs, fresh green beans, squash casserole- the Sunday School class was providing the ham- estimates of how many to feed went out and paper products, cutlery, cups, sweet tea, coffee- then, giggles and exclamations from the floral department about the baker on her deathbed- ‘Maybe the offers of food at her wake had kept her hanging on.’ I wondered myself if the baker was waiting to hear if someone would dare bring a custard pie or a coconut cake to rival hers. ‘The phone lines are hot with arrangements- she was still hanging on but it wouldn’t be long…she’d been ready to ‘go’ ever since her husband had up and died 8 years before. Was never the same. Baked a dozen cakes and two dozen pies the night her husband died-for his wake. It seemed to calm her nerves.’ In the South, when someone dies, we can put on a funeral, is all I can say.

I thought-I’m not encouraging this…’Well which funeral home has Granny Smith?’ She sucked in her breath…and told me the arrangements, told me again that there would have to be enough food there to feed an army what with 47 great grandchildren. I thought about offering up my bananas but why send something so tasteless? ‘Well listen darling, if we can make it over there we sure will.’ I. escaped. Surely this would be it for this trip. Not so, as I rounded the corner the butcher was waiting with his cellphone open…

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His daughter is married to a distant cousin. I thought he had new pictures of his 4 year old grandson, who apparently got the call to preach last year on the Fourth of July. Battling heat, mosquitos and swatting flies- a crowd gathered on the bleachers, waiting for the fireworks. This little dark haired tyke, marched to the front of the bleachers and called out as loud as he could- ‘Can I get an amen? Hallelujah! Thank y’all for coming out tonight!’  He sang, he waved his little arms, he hollered out amen and amen…he ran the rails, he called down fire. And what do you know? Fireworks started popping and fizzling- the sky lit up. Yes, he definitely had the gift. Got it from our side of the family no doubt. But this was not to be the story from the open cellphone…that’s next week…the Fourth of July.

Oh no, the butcher wanted to show me a picture of a buggy load of some of the finest steaks in the store! Someone had tried to leave the store with that buggy load the night before- ‘Well, I’ll be.’ ‘You think that’s somethin’? They did manage to get a buggy full of King Crab legs out of here- just watched it on tape.’ Will wonders never cease.

Surely this was it…I managed to get over to the dairy aisle. I felt the shadow of a man come over my shoulder.- I was thinking- surely it’s not the creepy man who asks women out on dates by the cheese. It wasn’t. He was very tall, so skinny he probably had to stand sideways in the shower. ‘Hey, Ms. Camellia, did ya hear ’bout Granny Smith?’ Yes. I. did. ‘Slipped on a throw rug, broke her nose, black eyes and everything- said some of those great grandkids were underfoot.’ Well, that’s awful. ‘Did ya hear my momma died?’ No, I didn’t. I am so sorry. How did she die? ‘I’ll tell ya what got ‘er. Cigarettes, Lard and Beer.’ I could not think of one thing to say, except – Cigarettes. Lard and Beer? How old was she? Soulfully, the thin man said ‘She was just 92.’ I cleared my throat, straightened up and said-‘Well, I hate to hear it.’ I saw a friend as I was leaving the store- I told him not to buy cigarettes, lard or beer, that he won’t live past 92. He said- ‘I tell you what Camellia, if you’ll add Gin to that diet I’m goin’ on it.’ Me? I’m switching to water. You cannot make this stuff up. image

I missed everybody when I was on vacation- cannot wait to share some of it with you! Just had to have some fun and share the continuing grocery store saga with you! Until next time-

Love y’all, Camellia

Posted on by Camellia's Cottage · 7 Comments

Swap Shop! You’re on the Air!

We’ve been travelling! On road trips, I amuse myself by looking out the window and commenting on the sights. My husband adjusts the radio depending on what he wants to hear of my commentary. This  road trip, back home from Orange Beach, I asked him to turn up the radio volume on a Swap Shop broadcast. The reception wasn’t that great- but the enthusiasm of the female broadcaster made up for it. Rural radio stations have been known to be attached to a private home- As far as I know she could have been in her slippers with curlers in her hair- broadcasting live…

‘Well, Good Morning everybody, Bennie and I are broadcasting from Atmore, Alabama! It sure has been a downpour this morning, hope you’re stayin’ dry -take an umbrella with you if you get out in this! Ok, let’s get started – first we’d like to thank EZ Pay Auto, Kut Above Hair Center and Three Brothers’ Arms- Gun Shop & Pawn for makin’ it possible to air Atmore Swap Shop!

First, we’ve got a few announcements for you- Brother Pat sure did do a good job on that sermon- ‘Don’t Condone What God Condemns’ last Sunday, he called and asked us to thank his deacons and the men of his church for removing that Fortune Tellin’ Gypsy Booth by the side of the road near the church. I saw it not too long ago, that Gypsy had an ol’ stringy black wig and a purple turban on her head,  the glass was broke out of the sides, the booth was wore out and the 10 cent sign was faded… nothin’ but a snake pit, I tell you what! Brother Pat said one of the men brought a machete to cut back some of the kudzu that was thick as thieves! They got the gypsy loaded up and took her to the dump. It sure was sendin’ the wrong kind of message… ‘took  the better part of the afternoon but those fellas aren’t gonna condone that mess – can I get a witness? You bet.

Moving on here, a short report on the two fishermen that won an astoundin’ six fishin’ tournaments, up in North Alabama! Don’t sell our ‘boys in blue’ short here- they been fishin’ all their lives- Six big wins raised suspicions with the Law. After some serious investigation it was ‘de-termined’ that those bad boys were taking  big ol’ fish on board with ’em and then using those self same fish to weigh in! Just in time to win all six, six mind you! fishin’ tournaments! Bennie said he heard the men in question were gonna be banned for life from tournament fishing, have to return the trophies and prize money- and their fishing licenses are being revoked. It’s good enough for them.

And one more thing, before these phones start lightin’ up- Tomorrow morning startin’ bright and early- there’s gonna be a huge, ‘Mul-Ti’ family yard sale over at the stockyard to benefit families of the prisoners up at Atmore Prison, so y’all be sure and run up there and help those folks out, it’s the right thing to do. (paper shuffle)

Bennie has just handed me one more announcement-let’s see- it says… Wind Creek Casino’s got an all new menu for their buffet starting this Sunday. Umhm, now you folks know we ‘don’t condone what God condemns’- but we’ve heard the buffet is no where near the rest of the shenanigans goin’ on in the rest of that place. Alrighty…Bennie, darlin’ thank you for answerin’ the phones while I’ve been making these announcements- let’s get started:

Swap Shop- you’re on the air! Bennie, the phone’s not working, honey! OK..

  • We’ve got a lady down near Loxley, lookin for a dog housee and chain link dog pen for a beagle. She needs these as soon as possible.
  • We have a fella over near the Grace Garland exit who has a 7×18′ car hauler for sale, will consider any serious offer.
  • Over by the Deer Processing Plant – they’re selling new potatoes just dug, green peppers, corn- they’ll shuck it for you- yellow crookneck squash, cabbage and turnip greens- and ‘we catch, you carry’ shrimp caught in the bay this mornin’ – and…it says here, look for the black pickup in that wide spot in the road over there.image
  • We’ve got a fella who’s lookin’ for 2 rims for a ’90 Mustang.
  • Free Firewood folks! Pecan wood, use it for smokin’ grillin’, bonfire, soakers, you name it. The wood is cut and on the ground, just come get it and haul it off.
  • Now, here’s a deal for you- a Massey Furgeson Tractor with front end loader, hay spear and hay forks for $7000
  • Somebody over past the prison has black and tan puppies, a large wooden swing set and 12 acres of land for sale- best offer for all or separate.
  • A lady’s looking for a couch and loveseat and possibly some matching end tables.
  • Somebody is in serious need of tractor tires, will take 1 or 2, tractor tires- y’all.
  • If you have a pecan cracker or butterbean sheller for sale- we’ve got a number here for you call-
  • Ok! We’ve got 3 bathroom cabinets with a marble top, used- for sale $300

Wait a minute, Bennie darlin’ can you clear this up for me? Is this an organ and a piano or a combo? Ok, while he’s checkin’ on that…

  • The caller said he has an organ and piano or it could be an organ/piano combo for sale and he.. is.. also.. lookin’ for yards to cut!
  • A- like new- Ninja motorcycle for sale, also, a size 13- all leather pair of men’s Harley Davidson boots, worn only a time or two for $35 and a brand new ‘in the box’ size 12 and a half, men’s all leather Brahma Steel Toe boots for $20
  • Over near Sardine Creek, they’ve got tomatoes, cucumbers, watermelons, worms and crickets for your fishin’ pleasure, honey, homemade jellies and jams and yard eggs for sale- will be there all day today, except from 2:30 to 5 when they have to do a school bus run, but all day, rain or shine on Saturday!
  • The big flea market down in Bay Minette has let us know, they have fresh produce as well as a wide selection cowhides and sheepskins and all kinds of merchandise new and used.
  • And last but not least, Bennie said to tell y’all that we have yard eggs too, duck and chicken- and baby chicks and baby ducks also, yes that’s right- here at the station.

What’s that Bennie? You’re gonna be the death of me! He just said to tell y’all that he’s got at least two boxes of chicks and two boxes of Quackers!! Lord, what am I gonna do with that man?image

Now listen, I won’t be here Monday mornin’ – have to go over to my favorite beauty parlor, ‘Hairs 2 Ya’ and then take Momma to have her partial plate adjusted at the new place right next door- ‘U Save Denistry’- so!  Bennie said he’d be here- but I’m gonna remind him of it- ’cause he’s like me, if it happened yesterday he’s done forgot it. So, y’all stay out of the rain…if you’re headed to the beach – watch out for that undertow and for heaven’s sake don’t get sand in the car!

I laughed all the way up to Bates House of Turkey and Priester’s Pecans over that Atmore Swap Shop! Crickets and Worms for your fishin’ pleasure? Box of Quackers…? In the meantime, we’re excited because the Skeeter Girls from Orkin sprayed today so we can get outside and do some yard work!

Have a great day… Love y’all Camelliaimage

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Annual Mother’s Day at Peach Park…

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Well, I hope y’all had a Happy Mother’s Day. We met the kids on their way back from beach at the Peach Park in Clanton. Chilton County Peaches are well known- they aren’t ripe yet- but this combination of farmer’s market and restaurant includes sandwiches and cobblers, fried pies and homemade ice cream almost all year round. It is a favorite stop for those on their way to or from the Alabama Beaches. image

We drive the back way, on rural county roads. I amuse myself by writing down names of places, church signs, businesses and the sights of the countryside. This year, I noticed that every Dollar General we passed had folks boiling out-probably pickin’ up a card, gift or supplies for Mother’s Day. Near Beaver’s Collison and Auto Body Shop, a wooden floor had been set up, I said, ‘family reunion’…he said, ‘tent revival’ – in the rear view mirror I said he was right since there was a big white van with Independent Holiness Church on the side. Down the road a bit was a cemetery. A family was having a ‘flag ceremony’ for their loved one. There was a full size American flag and a full size Crimson flag with a big white Alabama ‘A’ on it. A good sized group was standing around. This is the South, folks like to personalize their funerals. This is Alabama where folks love God, country, their mommas and take a firm stand on football- Auburn or Alabama. image

I began to sing -‘When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll…Tide!’ He cut his eyes over to me- I said ‘well, that’s how we sang it at Campus Crusade meetings when I was at Alabama’.  I saw a church sign which said ‘Have an Epic Mother’s Day’ …am still wondering what that would entail.  It has been said that a mother loves the black sheep of the family the most. I thought about that when we cruised at 25 miles per hour through a small town, past the city hall – several people were milling around the parking lot by the jail. A pickup truck had the tailgate down with a picnic going on- men and women in tank tops sporting tattoos alongside men with short sleeved shirts and ties, seemed to be having a good time. There were women sitting in the back seats of sensible sedans. I wondered if momma was brought over to the jail to visit the black sheep or if it was momma they were visiting. Either way, you can mark it down that her knees were worn out from praying for that bunch. Out front of the Farmer’s Co-Op there was a sign that said- ‘Onion Sets, Seed Taters, Mater Cages’- the owner is a clown. A truck farmer was setting up shop with some good looking spring Vidalia Onions with thick green tops. Past fallow farmlands that would soon be sprouting cotton or stands of corn, we saw a hand lettered sign- ‘Gourds for Sale’ – Get those now! put ’em up for the purple martins! keep the skeeters away! – is what I always think.

We passed a sale lot filled with new tractors and backhoes and a cute shop called ‘bulbs.sprig.birds.chirp.’ – and a beauty shop called ‘Shear Elegance’- probably worked overtime on some epic Mother’s Day hairdos; another church sign- this one said ‘God plus one is a majority’ – I actually think God is a majority all by Himself. We were listening to music on Garrison Keiller’s Prairie Home Companion- folks singing ‘wicked path of sin’ songs. We decided to stop and use the facilities at a gas station. I heard a woman checking out say- ‘We picked up the chicken and biscuits, stopped at the grocery store, got the cake, then we called Rusty, he had just gotten up, stayed out all night and was sleepin’ it off’…yes, ‘wicked path of sin’ songs were in order. Right across the interstate from the gas station was the big water tank painted to look just like the biggest peach you ever saw! Two more exits down, ‘which way?’ – we were behind a car with a specialty tag that read- GoneWTW- I said ‘go left’. When we got to the Peach Park, we pulled in, got a good parking place, folks were sitting in the big rocking chairs, or bringing out boxes of fried pies and barbeque, one couple had bought a gallon of peach ice cream- probably to take up to momma’s. A big man and a little woman came out with big bowls of ice cream- she slid daintily onto a picnic bench, he hiked his leg over the bench as it groaned- ‘um baby, this sure does look good, don’t it?’. Our children were already there- I wanted to say- ‘um baby, they sure look good, don’t they?’ We ate our share of the bounty, I took some pictures of past Peach Queens- which line the walls.

For my gifts-the kids brought me a quart of gumbo from Doc’s Seafood Shack in Orange Beach, two boxes of Peeps and a mug with ‘Mom’ on the side and ‘love’ on the inside-exactly what I wanted. I almost cried.image

When they got in the car to leave I wondered if they knew that our hearts were travelling in the car with them. On the way home, several times my eyes filled with tears, I looked out the window often. We passed over Beeswax Creek- I sniffed big- he said ‘What is it?’ I said ‘none of your beeswax’, and got tickled. Right after we passed the ‘Red Barn Bent and Dent Grocery’ but before you get to the ‘Dixieland Trading Post’- I thought about that church sign- ‘Have an Epic Mother’s Day’; I’m still not sure what epic would entail, but any day you get to be with your children is an epic day, especially when the nest has emptied. On those days-I can honestly say, ‘It is well… it is well…with my soul, it is well, it is well…with…my soul! Roll Tide.

Love y’all, Camellia

  • feel free to take sides and add ‘War Eagle’…

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Our Southern Mothers…

A woman born and raised in the South carries with her the wisdom of the ages. Most of us had more than just our mothers watching out for us- we had grandmothers, aunts, sisters and cousins; we had our mother’s friends and neighbors- the list was endless. Our mothers told us that they ‘had eyes in the back of their heads’ when really they had eyes and ears all over the place! They dispensed an ongoing wisdom, usually in third person-  ‘I can’t believe her momma let her leave the house in that getup!’.

They taught us the rules, how to behave, how to dress and why; regularly dispensed advice about men and what to watch out for; these women were our moral compass, why, they could even foretell the future!- ‘If you keep crossing your eyes, they’re gonna stay like that!’; they taught us about consequences ‘She’s played her stunts, now she’s payin’ for it’ – or ‘If y’all don’t get down out that tree right now, I’m going to jerk a knot in you! was the first warning- the second warning – ‘Alright, if you fall out of that tree, you’ve got yourself to blame for it’, third warning, ‘Just wait ’til your daddy gets home!’. For some reason, shoe advice was important- I’ll never forget my grandmother coming home from one of her meetings saying- ‘That Edna Earle embarrassed me to death wearing those white sandals after Labor Day- looked like weinies hangin’ out of a bird cage!’ Who can make this stuff up? Change your shoes, they’re eating up your socks and no, you cannot go barefoot until June!

It was ‘coarse and common’ to be poppin’ gum, smacking while other people were trying to eat a decent meal, and for heaven’s sake! Get that hair out of your face! The fashion advice was carved in stone- don’t wear white shoes until Easter, don’t wear white clothing after Labor Day- take a sweater, you’ll need it- that dress is hiked up in the back, how did the hem of your dress fall out? and ‘How could you even think of wearing that? I will not have one of my children going to church looking like that!’ Advice to children was straightforward- ‘y’all get outside and play before I lose my mind!’ – ‘Be home before dark- and don’t go too far or the boogey man will get you!’ ‘Here, take this jar and catch some lightening bugs, we’re trying to watch for Sputnik!’ ‘Settle down, y’all are making enough noise to raise the dead…’ ‘Where’d you get those chigger bites?’ The issue of weight gain was another subject- ‘Well, Gene, she’s gained up so much, bless her heart- I had to sit between her and Thurman on the way and it was like sitting next to dough and it risin’…’her ankles are so thick- she ought to know better than to wear ankle strap shoes’ and this- ‘darlin’, her legs are like tree trunks, you can hear her thighs rubbing together- that’s why they invented talcum powder, poor thing – her momma ought to be ashamed lettin’ her get that way’. To be too skinny was just as bad- ‘honey, you’re skinny as a rail, why a puff of wind would blow you away, a little padding wouldn’t hurt one bit in the right places’. My grandmother thought there were only two things that would cure you- a dose of milk of magnesia if you felt bad and a permanent wave if you looked bad. And this- ‘Hon, you need to put on a little makeup, you know you’re not a natural beauty.’ Oh my, really?

You had to watch out for men that were ‘down at the heels’, who looked like they hadn’t shaved, who had BO and the worst of all – was if a man just looked ‘seedy’ in general. The man’s condition was of course, not his fault – it was that sorry mother of his. Men couldn’t be expected to stay nice and neat!

We were taught the basic nice things to say- thank you, please, I sure enjoyed that supper, yes sir, no ma’am, oh yes, I’m just fine (because no one wants to hear you whine). And… we all knew to stand up straight (we didn’t want to end up all bent over), keep your voice down, don’t sing too loud, cover your mouth, wear clean underwear in case you had to be taken to the hospital. And, for heaven’s sake keep some Kleenex or better yet, a nice ‘hankerchief’ should be with you at all times. Yet, my all time favorite advice came at a low period in my life- I was explaining it to my grandmother- she said ‘Now, stop crying- go wash your face. Hold your head up and don’t ever forget whose child you are!’

So to all of these strong, sweet smelling prophetesses who wrapped us up with towels when we had goosebumps from running through the sprinkler, who held us in their laps, who cooked decent meals for us, then passed along their sense of fashion and good taste- on this Mother’s Day, thank you! Bless your hearts, you made us what we are.

Love y’all, Camellia

*Photographs are from private collections and cannot be reproduced or reprinted without permission. Thanks to all who shared photographs! Couldn’t have done it without you!