A few days ago I made a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and broccoli for dinner. I made my chicken, then put the chicken to rest while I used the drippings to make the gravy. "Equal parts fat and flour" was the mantra that ran through my head as I mixed.
My mom taught me that when I was little, when she would make gravy from meat drippings standing in the kitchen wearing her "bless this mess apron" and I would ask questions incessantly. I did absorb some of it.
A few weeks before, I went to the farmers market and I smelled the aroma of concord grapes and I remembered my mom making jelly every autumn in the kitchen from the grapes in the yard.
Then came the "chi-clone" of 2010. What was purported to be the biggest storm to hit the mid-west in 70 years. I thought of my dad- I remember being a kid and him being a super hero. He could fix anything. There were years in there that were awful (awful is an understatement) but now I am back to admiring him, he knows more about so many things that I have no clue about.
Thanks to my grandmother I can play cribbage, I can make fudge.... I am so thankful that I have had people pass these skills on to me and made wonderful priceless memories in the process.
Hopefully my mother will teach my kids how to crochet and my dad will teach them how to fish. I hope they will have the same kind of wonderful memories that I do