fact or fiction
Is it fact or merely fiction? Fact or Fiction explores the myths and beliefs we hold about our family dynamics, traditions, and if there's such thing as a 'perfect family.'
The Wrong to the Right Recipe
“Betty Anne, Betty Anne Lakeland…Time to come in for supper!!”, are the words I would hear every Sunday just as the sun was going down in time for Family dinner. Today was just another regular day like any other, or so I thought… I had always made my way back close to home, so that I’d hear Mom calling me around supper time. Today, I was just around the corner at Mrs. Tootsie’s house, the best story-telling widow of a Vietnam Veteran. Alzheimer’s had set in for Mrs. Tootsie so she was at the point in her story where her late husband, Mr. Ernest – then Sergeant Clark proposed to her just before he went off to War. Of course, I would always share the news of what we were having for Sunday dinner and she would give me recipe tips from how she used to cook just about whatever we were having. I would actually take notes and share with my Mom and she’d always say, “Betty Anne you ain’t never cooked a day in your life, what you know about good eatin’ lil girl?” I’d respond, Ma’ you just watch one day all my good tips on cooking from Mrs. Tootsie and all the other old ladies around here’s gonna make a great little cook book and I’m gonna sell it and we’ll be rich - you watch and see!! Ma’ would give me a good ole’ country grin and Dad would call me over and say, “Princess you might have something there, you just keep on writing you hear.” I went off to wash up to have Family dinner. Tonite was lamb chops, green beans, and mash potatoes and Mom’s famous gravy which I kinda thought had a touch of Mrs. Tootsie’s gravy recipe in there but I’d let Ma’ take the credit. Just as I sat down for supper, the phone rang. Ma’ answered, and I could tell by the look on her face that it wasn’t good news. As she got real quiet, she called me over and she said, “It’s Mrs. Tootsie princess.” I responded, “Oh no Ma’, Mrs. Tootsie, is she okay?” She responded, no she had a real bad fall and they’ve called for all the Family and they don’t think she’s gonna make it honey. Suddenly, my appetite was gone and all I could do was entertain all the memories that came rushing through my mind about the times with Mrs. Tootsie and all of her good stories and even better recipe tips. I went to a quiet place and I just started to read through my little black book of recipe tips, but only the ones that I’d gotten from Mrs. Tootsie. For every one of her recipes, it was dated Sunday dinner and with the menu. Before I knew it, I realized I had a complete cook book of priceless recipes that Mrs. Tootsie probably didn’t remember giving me due to the dementia. As I turned midways, the book, there lied a recipe that Mrs. Tootsie had told me to keep near and dear, as it had passed through many generations in her Family and she had wanted me to cook it when I grew old enough to have my own children and Family. She actually called it, their ‘million dollar recipe’ and I had forgotten all about it. This made me smile and so I went back to the kitchen where Ma’ sat crying, as she looked up at me and said, “she’s gone Betty Anne, Mrs. Tootsie’s gone darlin' and what’s worse the Family can’t afford the funeral costs, it’s so sad” As Ma’ sobbed, I rubbed her shoulders and we both wept together for a little while and then I said, “hey Ma’ I have a great idea. I know everyone is sad about Mrs. Tootsie’s passing but I think I might have a way to raise the money for her funeral costs.” Ma’ looked up at me in amazement with her eyes wide and says, “Betty Anne baby funerals are very expensive and they need the money right away what could we possibly do?” I said, “Well Ma’ you remember I told you I was working on a recipe book?” She said, “yes, I remember Betty Anne” I said, “Ma’ Mrs. Tootsie gave me a ‘million dollar recipe’.” Ma’ says, “let me see.” I showed her Mrs. Tootsie’s Golden Rolls recipe for what she also called the most amazing bread recipe that would put any country kitchen out of business in town. My Ma’ then calls up Mrs. Tootsie’s eldest daughter and tells her about the recipe book. To Ma’s amazement, her daughter shouted through the roof over the phone and says my Mom always raved about that Golden Rolls recipe but never told anyone about it and said she was sworn to secrecy so she’s the only one that could bake it. She explained when Mrs. Tootsie came down with Alzheimer’s her memory just didn’t serve her to remember much anymore and she barely knew her children’s names. Mrs. Tootsie’s daughter goes on to say, I know a restaurant that would pay good money for that recipe and we would have enough to cover the funeral costs! Betty Anne Lakeland your little black book of recipes may have saved the day, she shouted. In that instant, we called down to the Magellan Patisserie and talked to the owner, Bob. He said I’ll front you $5000 for the recipe and pay you $20,000 to take it off your hands. He also offered to buy my entire black book, but I was hesitant and rightfully so as my Dad halted the deal at just the Golden Rolls recipe and I can think of ‘a million’ reasons why. For now though, my little black book has saved the day!!
By JACQUELINE WIGFALL5 years ago in Families
Mysteries in Books
On the corner of Mason st. and Jackson dr., stands a small used bookstore. It’s called ‘Mysteries in Books’. The store has been there since before I was born. It was started by my great-grandma, then to my grandma, then my mother and now me. My mother passed away two years ago, and the bookstore became mine. I grew up within the shelves, reading every book that ever came in. Some I was even sad to see go. Nothing makes me happier to come through the arched doorway every morning. The smell of old books hits you the second those doors open, and it’s a feeling of becoming free into a whole alternative world. Each book takes you to a new place in time, and sometimes I even feel like I’m brought into the book, living out as a character. It will never get old. This shop is where all the book lovers want to be at. I’ve seen so many people come and go through its doors. Books come and go just as much as the people.
By Shelby Schwartz5 years ago in Families
The little black book
Skai; tall, muscled, lean and dark-skinned propelled his fishing vessel further out towards the soft orange painted horizon. He soldiered on resisting his slight fatigue as mild and comfortably warm sun rays seeped between a thin mist of silver clouds, reflecting off the vast ocean surface and shimmering upon the waves as a precious blanket of diamond dust.
By Jasonia Grant5 years ago in Families
My Grandfather's Gift
My grandfather was an interesting character. He never let stereotypes get him down, physically or mentally, and never once did he bat an eye in the face of danger. He took the world head on and expected it to take him the same way. I loved him, a lot.
By Rambles4you5 years ago in Families
To Grandmother's House We Go
February 9th was a cold and damp morning. I opened one eye but the sun that fell through the crack in the curtains was so blinding I quickly turned my back to the window. My body didn’t want to get up. That was most morning these days. Feeling too heavy to start my day. Chicago in the winters is something you never get used to. But today there was sun.
By shannon steger5 years ago in Families
CLUTCH
When Grammy was declared dead after going missing for over seven years – I’m guessing because her remaining relatives got tired of footing the bill for my living in her house all this time – it inexplicitly had fallen upon me to clean out the house, including dispensing with what was left of her belongings that hadn’t already been sponged up by said relatives. Which left me the not-so-proud owner of a grand total of one particularly decrepit-looking steamer trunk.
By Mark Rhodes5 years ago in Families
A Curiously Big Day in the Life of David Smalls
David looked wearily up from his soapy mop to glance at the large white traditional clock hung on the warehouse wall. 'Half-past seven,' he thought as he continued mopping. He pictured his bed and the anticipated sweet relief of his head hitting his pillow to sleep after a long nightshift. David had been working at the warehouse for nearly seven years. He found his job to be monotonous and repetitive, but it paid his bills. David had few friends of mention and no living relatives. His parents, who had lived about a kilometer away, had both passed away last year, his mother in June and his father in October. David was still in the process of dealing with their estate. David had already assessed that he would be lucky to see $20,000 after everything was said and done, to which he felt indifferent. His mother and father were not rich and had lived on a fixed, modest income. The grief of losing his parents was something David was no yet ready to face. He had bottled those emotions up and effectively buried them deep down to perhaps be dug up and examined at a later date. At almost 50 years old and after spending his entire life in a small town without any real job or relationship prospects, David considered himself relatively fortunate to have his health and the few friends he did. Depression had never been a concern of David's when his parents were alive. Lately, he felt a slight malaise—a sense of boredom that he had never really felt before.
By Charlene Cook5 years ago in Families
Manifesting ABUNDANCE
Manifesting Abundance: Divine Timing It was a beautiful day in Baton Rouge, Louisiana; but hot as hell for sure. Stepping outside felt like stepping into a large bowl of hot stew boiling at the highest heat on the stove. We occasionally travel to Louisiana to attend the family reunion held annually. I am a city girl, so this humid weather really caught me off guard. Although our family would take trips every so often back down south to visit our relatives, the time frames we traveled were so far spread apart that I never became fully accustomed to the heat.
By Sherrell Jones5 years ago in Families
Railroaded
Railroaded He called himself curious. He had a vivid imagination, loved trains, wanted everything blue – turquoise if you could oblige him, had a loud laugh, had high energy, enjoyed his life, and had a crafty GiGi. He is a light in this world and his name is Trey. Trey was in the first grade and for a child who had issues with noise from infanthood up, he sure was noisy.
By Lynette Stafford5 years ago in Families
