Cracker tin


December 19, 2006, 08:40 PM
Cracker tin

“Grandma, how come you keep a Premium Cracker tin in the den on display?”

That old cracker tin had been displayed in grandma’s den as long as Elizabeth Ann could remember.

Grandma Ann Marie dried her hands on her apron. She motioned for Beth to sit at the kitchen table. Beth watched as with great care Grandma took down the glass case and gently set it onto a placemat.
Grandma removed the wooden lid, set it down, and then pulled out the Premium Cracker tin.

Beth’s, mouth got a bit dry, her eyes big, and her hands clasp tightly in front her on the kitchen table. She knew this was another one of those special times…

With the cracker tin on top of another place mat, she popped off the lid, set the lid down gently. She reached inside and the first item she pulled out was a small child’s doll.
“I made this for your mom when she was just a baby from a pair of socks and other scraps I had”
Granddaughter held it gently, it was not like the dolls she had growing up, or the ones in the store. This one had some stains, and looked different, it ….

Grandma then pulled out a revolver and with muzzle in a safe direction, unlatched the cylinder open and made sure it was not loaded.
“There is some stories about this gun” – grandma shared as she handed it to her granddaughter.
Granddaughter, kept the muzzle safe, left the cylinder open as she was taught. She had been brought up with guns and gun safety.

After the gun was set away from them both, grandma let out that laugh she had, pulled out a big fat pencil that had been sharpened by a knife, she then pulled out a slip of paper and handed this to granddaughter.

“Your mom wrote her name” – grandma shared.
Granddaughter was turning the paper all directions, and it still looked like spaghetti.
Then both ladies cracked up laughing.

Old pocket knife, old empty box that Animal Crackers had come in with the string handles, green vial that had held Clove oil, wooden cotton swabs, ammunition …

“Sweetie, I guess it is time you and I had another one of them talks” Grandma said as she fingered the stocks of that old revolver.

to be continued...

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December 19, 2006, 09:13 PM
Waiting . . .

Well . . . ?

Waiting . . .

Hello? Is this thing on?

December 20, 2006, 12:31 AM
The rain was still coming down on this dreary fall day. The wind was blowing making the temperatures feel colder outside. The smells of the roast with potatoes, carrots, onions wafted in the warm kitchen. Grandma added a bit of water to the cast iron skillet, and set the cast iron skillet lid back on.

Granddaughter added another log to the fireplace in the den. This was the best place to have these special talks. They would share the comfy sofa, and sometimes they sat side by side, sometimes facing each other, and sometimes they hugged and shed tears, or tried to keep each other from busting sides from laughing.

Grandma poured the warm, not quite hot, Dr. Pepper from the saucepan into two big mugs, added a good squirt of lemon and entered the den.

“Marie, dear me child, your momma Marie could be a royal pain in the butt when she wanted to be” – Grandma said as set the mugs down.

“Grandpa would have the truck through the week – except for Fridays, I’d take him to work and get the truck to get groceries, clothes, medicine, run errands, and whatever else.
All of gals did this back then. We only had one vehicle in the family and stores were not open late, much less all night like they are now. We had “Blue Laws” meaning one could not buy anything on Sunday. You got what needed getting when the stores were open – or you didn’t get it.

Your momma was the sweetest kid, except when she did not want to be. When she did not want to be – everybody in the next county knew it. She was not that big, but dadburn it – she had a set of hollering lungs on her.

She liked riding in the truck, as long as we were moving, start slowing down and that lip get to puckering up, eyes get to squinting, and she was getting all primed to scream bloody murder.
Marie, Marie was smart too, she’d toss that bottle on the floor board about the time I was pushing the clutch in , shifting the gears on the column and – she knew, I had both hands busy and “plop” that bottle would be on the floor board”.

“What about her pacifier?’ – Granddaughter asked.

“We would not get off the property good and she had already tossed a pacifier onto the floorboard. It was a four pacifier trip just to get up to the bridge where that old hickory tree got hit by lightening I told you about that used to be after you crossed over…

How’s that Dr.Pepper feel going up your nose child?”

Granddaughter choked, blew her nose using a Kleenex off the coffee table, wiped her eyes, and about the time she had her composure, Grandma made a motion again with her hand tossing something over the back of sofa and her sinuses got cleared again, and this time Grandma had to do a pat on the back to assist.

“Bet the Roast is done” Grandma said.
“I am going to set all the contents of the cracker tin here in the den, we will continue this sharing while we get the rolls done, eat supper and what do you think about some Constant Comment tea with this meal?”

Beth noticed how careful Ann gathered the tin and its contents. When the pistol was carried off into the den, her mind kept wondering what-all that pistol could say if it could talk…

to be continued...

December 20, 2006, 10:37 PM
Do carry on.

Nice technique you've got there.


January 2, 2007, 02:22 AM

I wuz wondering . . .

Did you give up on this, or just quit sharing it?

January 2, 2007, 10:57 AM
Easy there Arfin- Ol' Stevie's a busy boy. I'm sure he'll be back with more.

Right, Steve?:uhoh:

January 2, 2007, 11:02 AM
Unexpected Serious Circumstances...
Conflicts in Scheduling...

When I get the flash-drive back and can edit, I have this and another thread I started to finish I will continue with.


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