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Relatively speaking

30 Jul

I only had one aunt and uncle when I was growing up and they made quite a unique set. When fellow classmates and I would compare relatives, mine always rose to the top the heap. You know the type, if you don’t have a set, someone you know does and they rant and rave on all the wonderful things about them.

My friends back in the city were always jealous, I could see it in their eyes, when I got to tell them about my summers at the cabin. Fishing on the lake before sunrise with my Uncle, having a picnic lunch on the porch with my Aunt, then the three of us heading down to the $1.00 afternoon matinees during the hottest part of the day. After the show we would go to the malt shop for something cool and refreshing, preferably chocolaty, and my Aunt and Uncle would catch up on the local gossip with their friends. While they sat on the silver stools with the red vinyl seats, I got to sit over at the booth near the front window and play checkers with ole Mr. Wiggins He would always let me win, since I was only eleven and like he always said, “just ain’t right beatin’ no youngun’, ruins thar’ spirit”. Course that was fine by me,winning whatever the reason, was fun.

If it was a really hot day, we would take our time walking back home, and more often than not, would do a little sidetracking back to the lake for a cool-down swim in the icy mountain-stream fed waters. My Aunt and Uncle tried to keep my visits pretty low key. They had both been famous once, and the wooded home had become their refuge that they only shared with a few limited friends and family (naturally) , of which I was their favorite niece, of course.

Best of all during the summer, l were the dinners that we had that topped off most of the perfect days I spent with them. My Aunt was one heck of of cook, although her collection of recipes tended to be specialized around specific types of meals. My personal favorite was when she would fix up breakfast for dinner. There is something about the smell of bacon and sausage frying over a wood burning stove, in the late vestiges of the afternoon just before sunset, that even to this day brings a smile to my face. We would have side dishes of eggs, fried green tomatoes, grits, hash browns and of course her famous stacks of hotcakes, light and fluffy and sometimes even her special buckwheat recipe. The drizzle of melted butter and lightly warmed maple syrup , lovingly taped up by my Uncle, just topped off everything on my plate, making even the thought of a dessert both unnecessary and redundant.

Now as I think back on those wonderful summers, I cherish the memories of my childhood spent at Uncle Toms Log Cabin enjoying my Aunt Jemima’s pancake dinners

Friday Members Pick:  Uncle Tom ( and Cabin)

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Posted by on July 30, 2010 in Flash Fiction, Southern Humor

 

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