Posts Tagged ‘family’

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Don’t look at me, that cow was an overachiever. 


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I can’t imagine why a Reindeer Pot Roast recipe is included in my family archives . Was Santa on someone s**t list? Was one of my ancestors going to show Mr. Claus what when you leave a stocking full of oranges instead of candy? I can;t tell you for sure.

But I can give you a jist of the recipe.

Wipe down the roast with LARD, preferably salted pork lard. (You can tell the age of a recipe by the term used to reference fat. This one’s old.)

Roll roast in flour, salt, and pepper.

Fry the roast in more salted pork LARD (1/2 pound) in a “kettle”. (Yeah, this is an old recipe.)

Brown flour in “Kettle”. (Okay, she was confused about kettles, but hey, she could write, so get over it.)

Place roast on rack in bottom of kettle. (Because hey don’t forget the LARD is still in there. Add water, seasonings (not getting too fancy because the only seasoning is one bay leaf) , cover and simmer.

Add carrots, onions, potatoes and turnips. (Haven’t heard that one in a recipe in a long time.)

If you don’t have enough meat for everyone make dumplings.

And so my Foodie Friends, add that one to your cookbook!

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How about a little fiction?

Inquisitions weren’t unheard of these days. But they were certainly rare enough. I never thought I might be involved in one of them.

How could everything have gone so wrong? Our first mission end not just in failure, but death. I glanced on either side of me and saw the worn tired faces of my team members, my younger sisters. Was it my imagination or did they look broken?

The empty seat of our necromancer, cousin Sarh, caught my eye.

I remembered when my Aunt and Uncle had realized their precious little darling was born to raise the dead. Sarh had barely been four. Her parents were hosting the mid-summers celebration. Everyone had been there. Imagine her parents’ shock when the family cat, dead two weeks came romping through the house. Their golden haired four year old following after. I was only six and still remembered my horror. I was always a little repulsed by her.

Nausea swept over me. How could I have ever been repulsed a girl, my cousin, my family?

“Why did you not call for assistance?” The voice of the inquisitor brought me back.

My hand trembled, my eyes stung. I blinked. I couldn’t cry during the inquisition. I would win their sympathy perhaps, but they would never let me off world again. Let alone lead my team.

“We have no elders. The rest of my family are younger than us, still in school. We couldn’t risk their lives. I wasn’t sure we would even make it.”

The old men magicked our family history. The shimmering outline of the text was in front of them.

“Surely there was someone,” the old man said, as he flipped through the text. “Ah, here.”

I closed my eyes and began silently counting. Trying not to remember the mid-summer’s celebration. My sisters’ and

I were hiding beneath the house.

One, two, three tables on the lawn.

Four, five, six, white table clothes fluttered in the summer breeze.

Seven, eight, nine a flash of light my Grandmother fell her eyes staring at nothing.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve the world stopped for a moment.

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Silence, nothing, it wasn’t real. a

Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen. A scream, tables overturning, everyone running.

Nineteen, twenty. My Father lay gasping in front of us.

That was the day that took the rest of our family.

And now Sarh.

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First day on the job, I was told to sit in on a client meeting to see how these Q & A sessions go. It was a phone conference. The client was in their offices and we were in ours. 

The client had about five people on the line, we had one guy, Bill and me. Of course he was doing all the talking. 

Midway through, a woman on the client side began yelling over everything Bill said. Finally, she was screaming things like, “You can’t be that stupid.”

At this point, Bill closed his laptop, picked up his stuff and just left without a word. 

The tirade continued with just me on the line.

She finally ended with. “Do you understand that, BILL?” She slurred his name in a most unattractive manner.

I hesitated for a moment, before taking the phone of off mute and said in a small voice, “Um, hi. I’m Deidra”


“This is my first day.”


“Um, Bill left a while ago.”


“I don’t know anything about the super awesome thingie. Do you want to leave a message?”

<pause, silence, no response>

“Okay then, I guess we can adjourn.”

I didn’t know that day, but I had been introduced to the woman who would be my arch nemesis for the next two years.

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I was fairly new on the job. I’d been there just long enough to know there was a woman, my manager who would come downstairs, jump on her broom and terrorize the entire wing. 

She was a pretty woman, which made her more frightening. You could hear her coming, stomping along in her high heeled shoes. If her pace was quick, you knew she was coming for someone.

When she launched into a tirade, everyone would stop to listen. And after she left, no one worked, they were all busy talking about her.

I was located in the furthest cubicle from the elevator. One day the doors opened and the click, clack of her high heels echoed on the floor.

I knew she was coming for me.

She snapped around the corner, her skirt swishing with each step as she quickly narrowed the distance between us.

Her entire face was pursed, on the verge of venomous explosion.

“Deidra,” She spit out my name like my Dad did when I used his stamp collection to post Valentines Day cards in grade school.

“Wait,” I cut in, “I know you have a problem and I’m here to help you. But you need to go somewhere else and wipe that look off your face and get control of yourself before you speak to me again.”

She gasped.You could hear a pen drop and none did.

She started laughing. “Am I really that bad?” she asked.

“Yeah, you scare grown men.”

That year I dressed up like her for Halloween. Hey, I can ride a broom too.

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I received a text from an old friend. 

It read – I want to call you, what’s your phone number?

I replied – I think you just texted it.

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I have recipes from my great aunts, grandmothers and even great grandmothers. Many are really good. I don’t use those. Just as may are a bit weird if not down right crazy. 

For all of you foodies, I would like to introduce a recipe from my great aunt who was quite the entertainer.

WARNING: Do not try this at home. But if you do, let me know how it turns out.

She called this little ditty the Backwoods Sandwich Loaf. I found it in her What to Serve Men section.

It starts with a loaf of unsliced bread. Cut lengthwise into 7 layers.

On the bottom layer, spread mayonnaise and cheese spread. Place bread layer on top.

On this layer spread tuna salad. Place bread layer on top.

On the next layer spread mayonnaise, tomato slices, salt, pepper and, you got it, next bread layer on top.

Next layer, egg salad. I think you’ve got the hang of the next bread layer …

Add mayonnaise and deviled ham.

Up until now you’re thinking – What up with you, Dee? It’s a little weird but still edible. 

But wait, there’s more.

On the last later, add mayonnaise and peanut butter. Yikes.

Though I’ve laid eyes on this wonder, I’ve never tasted it. You wouldn’t catch me eating a cheese spread, tuna, egg, tomato, deviled ham, peanut butter sandwich. 


Besides, it was served to the men in the wood paneled den.

And as a young female, I was served in the pale blue formal livingroom. We dined on Melon Americans or Frosted Sandwiches. 

I don’t know where she came up with the names.


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What would you write.

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But, I don’t see it.

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