Friday, December 4, 2009

Some Reminiscing.

This picture was taken November 21, 2006, at 5:02 PM. Mama Hawthorne is holding one of her seven great grandchildren.
I see a remarkable likeness. Is that just me? The picture below is of Mama Hawthorne, Sister Hawthorne, Brother Hawthorne, and Rosie Hawthorne, September 14, 2008, when we celebrated Mama Hawthorne's 94th birthday.
The next picture was taken September 14, 2009, at Mama Hawthorne's 95th birthday.
Yeah... My brother is a cowboy.
Back in October, I randomly posted about my assorted throws I have strategically and purposely placed, not thrown, throughout our home. And about their particular histories. Now, I have a new throw.
The first one was a gift from Sistah Hawthorne.
The second one I gave to a neighbor, Rita. It has a picture of an angel on it. Rita was always called "Angel" by her mother. When Rita died, I took back the throw I'd given her.
The third one, I gave to Auntie Hawthorne. She loved flowers and made exquisite arrangements. When she died, I took it back.
Well, now I have another throw.
It's Mama's.
The fourth one, I gave to Mama Hawthorne for Christmas years ago. I brought it home with me yesterday. I've had some problems getting back into Blogging. So it's shallow waters for me now. I should be doing my Christmas Baking right now. By this time last year, I'd already baked 10 different types of cookies and fudges. But to be honest, there's no room in the extra freezer downstairs to store anything. This bothers me greatly. Every year since forever, I've had this race with myself. To create more and more and more. I compete with myself and my past endeavors. And it's my gift to family and friends. I feel like I'm letting myself down this year. But wait! If I don't sleep, I can do this. Problem solved. Mr. Hawthorne and I headed out to run errands today and to visit with my first cousin who has a timeshare in Nags Head and called twice and left messages for me while I was at Mama's. When I walked in yesterday and got Cousin Gene's message, I called him back and told him about Mama's passing. We decided to meet today after lunch. It's always so comforting to see Gene. He reminds me so much of my Daddy. His mother, Madge, was Daddy's sister. He's the oldest of the first cousins. I'm the youngest. We share a bond. On our way to Gene's, we stopped at the light where the Dare Centre is. (Pretentious spelling of "center.") SubMan was luring passers to SubWay. Hey, we're suckers. Pulled right in and had the Italian Sub. Finally, SubMan saw me photographing him/her and started posing. After an exhausting day, both physically and emotionally, Mr. Hawthorne made me some comfort food.
It's kale, collard greens, turnip greens, and Swiss chard. All out of my garden. Simmered with some ham.
Yes. This is still a food blog. But it is also my release valve. It is my thermostat. It is my vent portal. It is my catharsis. It is my shrink. It is me, raw. With salt in the wound. While in Danville at Maxine's, I was informed of a recent death, on November 1, of a friend of Mr. Hawthorne's and mine. I was stunned. Andy was 52 and died of a heart attack. I'll miss him too. When it rains, it pours. And this is too much. My children and husband sometimes mock me when they hear me siiiiiiiiiighhhhhh. "Do you HAVE to do that, Mama/Rosie??!!??" Mama/Rosie: "Absolutely, YES! If I didn't, my freakin' brains would be on the GD ceiling." Dear Readers, I will cook again. Please stay tuned. Mr. Hawthorne wants me to write a book. A cook book. I could very easily knock out a book on some web site. I use for my recipe cards, but most of the time, I can't save the work I've posted there. Sometimes it works. Most times it doesn't. I get error messages. But, the most important thing Mr. Hawthorne said to me was: "#1 Basic Ingredients #2 Twist #3 Story"
I love Mr. Hawthorne's "Story" part. Shades of Kermit and Medussa! I want to put myself back out there. In the blogging sphere. And I shall. I'm cattywampussed now. I'm confuzzled. Anyone out there who knows how to deal with this sort of shit, please E-Me.


Anonymous said...

I cherish my hummingbird throw; it is in the sun room on my chaise, which one sits in, not on. Thanks Rosie, I love you.

Marilyn said...

How I wish I could have asked for the gifts back that I had given my best friend/sister after she died.

I'm pretty sure that they mean much more to me than they meant to her family.

Woodduck said...

Sorry for your loss.
I'm reminded of a blackboard in Mother's kitchen, when she died.
She had written, "Life is like a grinding wheel. Whether it grinds you down or polishes you up, depends on what you're made of."

Be strong, and God bless.

Unknown said...

I don't know what it is about blankets/throws that are so comforting, my grandmother hasn't passed, but I have some throws of hers that I remember from being little and they mean more to me than anything.

You and your family are in my prayers, I hope you find comfort soon.

Rosie Hawthorne said...

Thanks, Xmaskatie. I love you immensely. ;)

candace said...

I've been lurking for a while. I love, love your blog. Your food is raw, thought provoking and full of love. I always read your blog for inspiration.

I pray you gain comfort in this time of need.

Rosie Hawthorne said...

Thank you all. So very much.