July 8, 2009

July 8, 2009

There are just a handful of photo albums remaining in possession of my grandmother. There are two main ones in her living room, (the 50th wedding anniversary album and another album made for their 40th anniversary), and a few more in her bedroom. Most of the photographs that my grandparents had at their home in Indianapolis were either re-organized into other albums either here or in Indianapolis, or given a special place in a large orange trash container, (these were mostly duplicates, triplicates, quadruplets, or photos of food taken on various cruises).

Of what remains, one can see a clearer picture of the progress in my grandmother’s life. She was born with blond hair and blue eyes. Her eyes continue to shine blue, but her hair has changed colors as the decades passed. There was a brunette period, blond period, red period, and every variation in between. It appears that a new dye job accompanies each move that she made to follow my grandfather’s work or a new child. Of course, a new hair color could highlight an Easter or Christmas celebration. Nothing says Happy Easter like colored eggs, orchid corsages, and Grandma’s curl set and “fresh” hair color.

Evelyn still has a small library of assorted books in both the entryway room and her bedroom. The ones in the entryway room all seem out of her interests. I’m sure that they are books from other family members or friends, (like those belonging to Angi). However, the books in her room are all in her interest. In my first day here she told me that I could take any books that I wanted from her room. Every previous visit has presented me with the same opportunity, “Take whatever books you want. I can’t take them to the grave”. In the past I have benefited from various books by Maria Montessori or other educators. Wherever I am here I always leave with a few new books. This morning, it seemed doubtful that I would find anything I would like.

Her main bookshelf is full of books on nutrition. Such topics include peripheral neuropathy, good pills/bad pills, and Grey’s Anatomy. It is utterly obvious that most of our family has little interest in medicine. Either that or there were many other medicinal books that were better received by other relatives. The remainder of her book selection refused to spark my interest, but the search continued. Finally I was able to locate a bright red book entitled, “Treasured Polish Recipes For Americans”, created by Polanie Publishing Company in Minneapolis, Minnesota in 1948. In the forward is the following paragraph:

Every Polish woman has been taught the art of managing a household in the most economical way. Nothing is ever thrown away, and they have clever ways of using leftovers, such as making cordials of fruit skins, which are said to have medicinal qualities. This training has stood Polish women in good stead, now that they have lost everything. They earn their living working in restaurants, making pastries at home, cooking for orphanages and hospitals. (Polanie, 9).

I could not agree more with the first sentence. Managing a household in an economic way is not just an art; it is a true talent. My grandmother could live for weeks on free condiments from fast food restaurants. Not that she ever did, but the possibility was always there. The hoards of ketchup, jelly, mustard, soy sauce, mayonnaise, vinegar, sweet & sour sauce, syrup, and barbeque sauce in individual packets has been a staple of her gourmet tastes. However, there is a little discrepancy that I must add with the other parts of this paragraph.

In regards to having “clever ways of using leftovers”, I would say that there were certain limits to this equation for Evelyn. It’s true that she would prepare and eat leftovers, but nothing would ever fully disappear without being tossed out in raging disgust by another family member. It was like “last cookie syndrome”: no one will eat it for fear of being the jerk that finishes the cookies without anyone else getting a bite. Perhaps she was just saving everything in case the nation of Canada decided drop in for lunch. It’s true that she would always have something for us when we visited for breakfast, lunch, or dinner. One could find a variety of delicious foods, but there were many tests that would be administered for a final inspection. Lack of expiration dates at this time required certain tests.

Such tests include a simple obvious smell test. Upon opening a rancid container of milk, smelling would be enough to diagnose the demise of the product. With other foods, a quick identification of mold was also an obvious giveaway. Some foods were a bit trickier. A normal rice cake can taste like a concrete cookie when left unwanted for year. Freezer foods are also challenging. One would never suspect that a national celebrity like ice cream could be hiding an unappetizing freezer burn. I was burned many times by such frozen “delights”.

Of course, it would have been simple to share these foods with local orphanages or hospitals if someone took the time to deliver the goods. The problems would be in deciding what should stay and what should go. I believe that for my grandmother, she felt that whatever was bought and placed in the kitchen should stay there. I never heard of them bringing people in from the streets or rehab clinics, but they were very generous with their family. Ultimately, canned goods are always given to the needy. I’m not sure if they actually created the term “canned food drives”, but it would make sense. When you want to help people in need, the last thing they need is food poisoning. Thank God my family has always supported one another!