At Grandma’s

I remember when my sister, Susan and I would spend a week at Grandma Hettie Beck’s (1887 - 1981) during the summers when we were about 9 and 11 years old. Susan loved these vacations in the country for the same reason I hated them. I disliked eating homemade bread with homemade butter. They both tasted, to me, as if they needed salt. I am not an outdoor person and all the little creatures that are abundant in the country - scorpions, spiders, snakes, caterpillars, and more, repulsed me. Grandma Beck didn’t have a bathroom back then so we had to use the outhouse. Also, they had a big mean rooster that would chase me. He never chased Susan, only me. Grandma felt sorry for me, but Susan and Uncle Bill Beck derived great pleasure from my anguish. Now I wish that rooster was still alive because I think I could take him on today!

Uncle Bill had a couple of hound dogs named Pat and Judy. They never chased me but they looked like Duke on the Beverly Hillbillies. They would be slow and sluggish until Uncle Bill brought out their food; then you had better not be between them and dinner. Since Mother never let us own a dog, I wasn’t used to animals and these dogs were a little bit too large and ugly. I didn’t feel comfortable around them and was sure Susan tried to get them to chase me but they never did.

Something else I hated was drinking milk straight from the cow. I liked my milk to be pasteurized and homogenized, but we had to drink that udder liquid every day. Susan loved it, especially when she would swallow a blob of fat. I kept my mouth pretty much shut when I drank it to keep out the globs. I did like watching Uncle Bill milk the cows, though. All the cats knew when it was milking time and they all stood in a line hoping to get a taste. Occasionally, Uncle Bill would aim the udder at a cat and squeeze a stream of milk into its mouth. Susan was always in the middle of the cat line. She’d open her mouth and Uncle Bill would send her a squirt. She tried to talk me into participating in this ritual, but I like my milk cold.

I did enjoy sleeping on those fluffy featherbeds but once Uncle Bill caught a scorpion in the room and that caused me to lose a little sleep. Some of my fondest memories are of Grandma as she cooked. I especially loved to watch her make homemade noodles. Grandma also let me observe as she made soap, and I wondered why she went through all that when you could buy it already made. Susan and I both were fascinated when Grandma would put her hair up. One minute it would be hanging all down, then suddenly, WHIP! WHIP! WHIP! It would be in a bun on top of her head. I wonder if that is why Susan put her hair in a bun for so many years.