Scars

Thursday night, I was inspecting my left elbow in the mirror when I saw something I hadn’t seen for years. They had to catch the light just right or I couldn’t see them. They are scars from when I was but a child.

My mother’s kitchen in her dream house had an electric range with all the bells and whistles on the outside wall. At that time, the bells and whistles weren’t much, to be sure, but it had a deep well cooker and a clock (which soon quit working) besides three burners and an oven. On the other side of the kitchen, there was a cast iron cook stove. During the winter, it not only gave her a place to have soup simmering, it provided heat.

I was a sassy young lady who should have had her bottom popped more then she did. One morning, Mother had stoked the fire and it was merrily blazing away. There was an air intake on the front that was covered by a grill. Being the headstrong kid I was, I got over next to the stove with Mother telling me all the while I was going to get burned. Pursing my lips and setting my jaw, I pulled my arm back and there was contact.

More than 65 years later, I can still see the prints of the grill on my arm. Over time, they went from an angry pink to the color of the surrounding skin but the texture is different.

Now I have four more scars but they are on purpose. There’s the one in my belly button and three more besides. I think I like them better.

Yesterday was a busy day. I got quite a bit accomplished but I rested a lot, too. I called my cousin last night to let her know I wouldn’t be here today. My car would be but I’d be gone. She told me she came over not long before to make sure my light was on. She keeps tabs on me and I appreciate it.

She’d talked to an exterminator who said what I’d tangled with were probably chiggers. He said if they are on a branch and a person brushes against them, there will be a stinging sensation. He’d advised her to get diatomaceous earth to take care of the problem.

On up in the afternoon, it had gotten quite cool. Checking the thermometer on the deck, it was 72 degrees. When I got up this morning, it was 50. Fall must be just around the corner.

Braving the outside world, I went to church with a couple who were kind enough to come get me. They don’t live very far away but I’m still in the opposite direction.

Since today was fellowship meal, I had cooked some lentils and they came out so creamy and good! Then I fixed some saffron rice and put a couple of cans of olives in a container. Casting about for something else, there were carob covered peanuts and carob coconut clusters that I hadn’t eaten and I didn’t need to. That completed my offering.

I was greeted warmly by the members and most of them seemed glad to see me back at the organ.

During Sabbath School class, I slipped out to the fellowship hall and put my dishes in the oven. It was set on 250 degrees F, and I figured they’d be fine. I glanced at a bowl on the counter and there were several of the ugliest pears I’d ever seen. I went back to the church.

Not wearing my hearing aids left me out of a lot that was said. It takes energy to wear them and I don’t have a whole lot to spare. After I’d played for most of two song services and the first part of the church service with only the closing song, dismissal and postlude to go, I was getting rather weak and shaky. I didn’t want to stretch out on the pew (there was plenty of room because the people who usually share it with me were visiting another church). I’d taken some coconut water and a straw. I cracked it open and while the pastor preached, I drank. It helped a lot.

Church over, I took off my thigh-highs. I’d never worn my sandals with stockings and when I walked, my feet would slip. If I don’t wear something on my feet, though, my feet stick to the pedals. On the way out, the pastor was saying he was glad to see me and was blown away when he found out what I’d been through. Since I’d taken my stones to show to one of my friends, I offered to let him see them. He was amazed at the size of the grandpa of them all as were the other people looking on.

Making my way to the fellowship hall, I found one of the ladies fixing the ugly pears. Looking at them more closely, I realized they weren’t pears at all.

What is it?

When it was cut, there was creamy yellow flesh and some large dark brown seeds.

Yellow flesh, black seeds

When one of the seeds was cleaned, it looked like this:

Cleaned seed

(To be completely honest, the pictures are of one that the lady kindly gave me to bring home.)

She was saying she wasn’t sure what it was. I tasted it and I knew! It was a pawpaw!! For years, I’ve wanted to try a pawpaw and today was the day! The trees grow on the property of one of her relatives. She filled a very small bowl with the flesh and put it on the table with a sign to sample it. I sampled it more than once before the meal started.

When I got my dishes out of the oven, oh woe!! The lentils were dry and caked with the edges burned black. The rice fared better but it was crunchy on the top and bottom. That’s a mistake I won’t make again.

We ate, then there was an elder’s meeting before we could come home. I’d hoped to see Genese but as it turned out, I was glad to get back.

I was out at the fig tree when my CIL drove up. I told him about the pawpaw and he said he’d try it. I came in, drank my water then set about fixing the pawpaw and snapping its picture. I took the half with all the seeds over to him, then went out to my cousin’s shop to visit for a bit.

My CIL came out and I asked him how he liked the pawpaw. It was so-so. Well, I liked it. He has the seeds drying and has already picked out a spot to plant them. Maybe they’ll have a pawpaw patch while I’m still alive to enjoy it.

I came back to the house, tricked Twinkle into taking her B-12 (I had to chase her all over the house yesterday) and ate a bite of supper.

And now I’m ready to go to bed. I don’t know about you but I’m tired.

3 Responses to Scars

  1. Genese September 15, 2013 at 1:42 am #

    I’ve never tasted a pawpaw. We learned this tune when I was in 4th grade and now it is going round and round in my head:

    Where, oh where, oh where is Susie?
    Where, oh where, oh where is Susie?
    Where, oh where, of where is Susie?
    Way down yonder in the paw-paw patch.

    Chorus:
    Picking up paw-paws; put ’em in a basket.
    Picking up paw-paws; put ’em in a basket.
    Picking up paw-paws;put ’em in a basket.
    Way down yonder in the paw-paw patch.”

    • Tommie September 15, 2013 at 8:29 pm #

      I thought of the song, too, Genese, but I didn’t know the whole thing. I just remember the last lines. I’ll have to tell the lady you haven’t tried them. Maybe she will bring you one.

      Mary Jane, wouldn’t it be wonderful if they will grow? I have no idea how long it would take them to produce, but I hope to see it and eat the fruit!

  2. Mary Jane September 15, 2013 at 4:31 pm #

    Hope the paw-paw seeds will sprout and make a paw-paw patch!

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