25 Cents a Dozen

My friend Joy at A Vintage Green recently posted about a sign she had made that said "Fresh Eggs 25 cents a dozen", and those few words reminded me of 1972.

My two oldest sons in 1973, a little after this story

In the winter of 1971-1972 I had two sons, and the third was on the way. I was not quite 20 at the time, my husband had changed jobs and money was so short that we had only $10 a week for groceries for our family of four.

But tuna was cheap, culled apples could be had for $1.50 a bushel, honey was $25 for 5 gallons, and the drive to get these things was a beautiful one through the country to Front Royal, VA . Closer to home, milk was $1 a gallon with the cream on it from a local dairy farmer. I bought day-old baked goods by the bags-full for $1 a bag. I made butter, learned how to make applesauce, and somehow we ate well on that budget.

One of my favorite memories is of the day I learned to make white bean soup. I had a cookbook given to me as a wedding gift called Fine Old New England Recipes. I still have it. It had a recipe for cooking white beans, and I tried it out. I do not remember ever eating bean soup before, certainly my mother never made it. The cookbook also had a recipe for deep-dish apple pie and I was making that too. Both dishes came out perfectly.

It was early spring by then, an April day. We were still broke and I was eight months pregnant with my third son and in the kitchen of the little log house we lived in at the time, near the banks of the Occoquan River in Virginia. The trees were just budding out, and the plum tree in our backyard was in bloom. I had the Dutch door (one of those that opens at top and bottom) open to the back porch, and my two little boys were playing outside. The pale blue and yellow calico kitchen curtains I had made by sewing by hand were blowing gently in the breeze.

 We had good food, a cute little house in the country, healthy little boys, and we were happy. What more could a person ask?

Ten years, another son and a move to West Virginia later, the marriage was over; we were two people who had married too young and no longer knew each other. But that one day stands out in my memory as a day of complete content, a day when I found a self-confidence I had not known before. It would perhaps not be earthshaking to anyone else, but I believe it was the starting point for my journey to both self-sufficiency and self-discovery.

Copyright Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Eggs, Kate and Quilts

Tonight's post is really a mishmash of several unrelated things; maybe after writing it I will suddenly see the connections, but I pretty much doubt it.

There is the issue of eggs. Lots of them. No, this isn't all the eggs currently in the house--there's another basket on the table. I didn't mean to have so many chickens, but someone gave us 14 new ones, we already had 15 new ones and 8 old ones and now we have a LOT of eggs. If someone would remember to put a note on the bulletin board at work, she could probably sell all she wanted. But does she ever remember? No, she doesn't.

So we have eggs: boiled, scrambled or fried for breakfast, egg salad for lunch, and sometimes even omelet or egg wraps for dinner. We have brown eggs, light tan eggs, cream-colored eggs, blue eggs and green eggs. Big eggs and little eggs. Enough eggs to meet the needs of seven families, I'm pretty sure. This Sunday I'll be experimenting with freezing them. Fresh eggs keep a long time in the fridge and I will need plenty for baking season, but seriously...this is a LOT of eggs.

Next, I've added several new blogs to my blogroll. Check them out to meet some guaranteed interesting people. Especially my granddaughter's new blog, The Adventures of the Everyday. Kate is 15 and her thoughts about life are worth reading at any age. Especially her latest blog on gossip. Real truths there. (Not that I'm prejudiced or anything..). Kate is featured on the cover of my new CD Beyond the Grave.

Last is something that is not so fun or funny. It was something I saw in the second-hand store. In the linens section was a little hand-tied quilt, mostly done in pinks and floral fabric. I picked it up because I am always drawn to quilts. On the back in permanent marker it said, "To Chloe from Gramps, 2008."

I don't know who Chloe is, or who Gramps is, but why was that little quilt in the second-hand store only one year later? Did Chloe accidentally leave it behind when her mother was shopping? Did her mother decide Chloe was too old for Gramps' pink quilt and give it away? Other not-very-happy scenarios come to mind, but I'd rather not even go there. Gramps had to be a special guy to be making a little quilt like that. Surely the child would loved what he made for her.

So I am clinging to the belief that Chloe dropped her quilt, and her mother will be back looking for it frantically. Yes, that has to be the explanation. Anything else is just too sad.

September Sunday: Random Thoughts

Dawn was dark and gray, but sunlight broke through and all day the patterns of light shifted from brilliant Fall day to somber Fall day.

We finished the turkeys this morning and all five are now snugly nestled in the freezer. We don't just roast them for holidays; we eat turkey as a standard meat because it is so low in cholesterol and fats. So it would not be unusual to visit us and find the house filled with the smell of a roasting bird--minus stuffing because that stuff(ing) is just not good for us.

The chickens are laying well finally. The young chicks we raised this year are flaying so we have eggs for egg salad, breakfasts, baking and to give away. Two people cannot consume a dozen a day, but I wish there was a way to can these things. I will probably freeze some for use in baking. Eggs can be frozen but breaking, scrambling, freezing in ice-cube trays and then bagging up when they're frozen solid. The daily basket includes colors from blue and green to light tan and dark, rich reddish-brown. We've had a few double-yolks lately too, always a nice surprise.

Larry left for Fairmont this afternoon to change the brakes in our youngest son's car. We tend to do all our own car repairs (at least, Larry does them, not me) but Tommy is not a mechanic and rather than have him pay a shop, Larry made the drive and got a chance to visit son #4 and his family and son #5 at the same time. I stayed home to work on story research, laundry and do some cooking for the week. A Sunday treat is listening to public radio because Thistle and Shamrock is on, an hour of Celtic music. Pure listening pleasure.

Cooking today: rye bread in the breadmaker, which is still in progress so we'll see. I had no recipe so I'm winging it. Roasted chicken to use in recipes this week, and banana muffins for breakfasts and to pack in my lunch.

I did get out to pull a few weeds, play with the dogs and pick rose hips. Rose hips are an excellent source of vitamin C, and I will use them in teas this winter.




I am enjoying the flowers picked yesterday too. Fall flowers seem brighter, as if trying to get a last flash of brilliance before frost.

Now it's evening, the house is quiet and it's time to get back to studying. Another good day, another good weekend. And so hard to believe this is the last September weekend of the year. Time is flying by.