Love Letter 46 – Pot of Mush
Love Letter 46 – Pot of Mush
A weekend of water, waffles and wonder takes shape this early January day as we’re winsomely walking within the off-leash dog park along the shores of Burrard Inlet. Excitement ensues hours later within an East Hastings’ gem, Just Waffles, while savouring each explosive bite of blueberry maple walnut waffles and witnessing revealing and wonderful family New Year news.
I motor home with a contented stomach and a permanent grin that follows me through the front door of 1969 where I lazily melt into the mustard recliner, Google Ruby Waters’ Good Recipe and dreamily embrace another return to Flin Flon, November 1960 with Mom’s Love Letter 46:
Page 5
Sunday 10 pm
Add a few lines before I seal your letter, dear.
After Curly & Joy came from the show last nite Curly was in a real gay mood & danced w/ Joy & I for nearly an hour, then made us a toasted bacon and onion sandwich – boy did I smell great after that – laughed & talked for an hour or so – made Sat. nite go faster.
Then home.
To church this morning then came home and prepared for supper – even stuffed the chicken.
But breakfast after church was fun – Don decided he wanted some Red River cereal – what a laugh – after both of us hovered over the pot of mush.
Don kept adding water and more cereal and you should have tasted it, dear – you had to crunch the seeds in the cereal – all Don could say was poor Bryan.
Went to a concert this afternoon – Columbus Boy Choir – real great.
Well dear will close now – and write again soon.
Love,
Bette xxxxx ‘nite dear
I love you.
P.S. Uncle Frank is enclosing a few words, haven’t a clue what he will say.
Papa Frank’s ‘few words’ in blazing red capitalized letters read:
A Word To The Wise:
Fly Now! While There Is Yet Time. The One You Now Regard As Queen Of All Her Sex Will Without Doubt Show Herself A Termagent Within Six Months.
One Having Your Welfare At Heart.
SH-H-H-H
Mastering the cooking process of perfecting a bowl of porridge may be more arduous than say, stuffing fowl or disguising lingering bacon and onion stink, but I can assure you Mom, that Dad won’t give a hoot about an occasional crunch of uncooked seeds in your pot of mush when you’re in the kitchen together.
You hit me like a good recipeAnd it tastes so nice, tastes so nice
