Love & Potatoes

 The other night I was peeling potatoes for dinner and my mind wandered through past memories of potatoes and meal prep. 

I remembered the first time I peeled a potato with my Girl Scout knife at a overnight event at my GS leader's home. We hiked around her neighborhood and I remember several of us around a long table in the back yard peeling potatoes and carrots for a stew we would cook in a dutch oven. I had never peeled or chopped a potato before and Mrs. Glassford showed me how to do it with my knife pointing away from me and then how to clean my knife after using it.  I have many fond memories of GS Troop 837 from Lakeview Elementary. Mrs. Glassford was like a 2nd mom to me. When I led my daughter's GS troop (#1901), I tried my best to pass on the lessons and values that Mrs. Glassford taught us all those years ago.

I remember chopping potatoes and onions when my grandmother would make fried potatoes in the skillet. When I get a craving for her food, I just peel and chop a few potatoes, get out the salt, pepper and butter and set the potato pieces to boil.  I call them Mama Mac potatoes, even though I am sure they are just stewed potatoes in anyone else's opinion.  Some nights when things are especially hard, I would give nearly anything to go back in time to her kitchen and just sit at the kitchen table while she cooks and talk to her. She passed away in March of 2006. 

This past Christmas Eve, I sat at the kitchen table rolling out sausage balls while my daughter and her boys were decorating cookies here at mom's house. There are no pictures of that huge pan of sausage balls we made, but I remember it well. We use a bisquick recipe and spicy sausage if we want them to taste like Mama Mac made them years ago. 

Thanks to my husband and his sister, I am now in the kitchen much more than I was in past years. I have come back around to enjoying cooking and preparing food. There are several meals that David and I will tackle together.

I remember growing up and nearly every night we had dinner together once my dad got home from work. Mom nearly always made biscuits or cornbread and I have yet to master making either of these myself. 

Enjoy the things you love and capture all the memories you can. Only you can tell your stories, so hold on to your pen (or laptop).