Stirring the potatoes ...

Stirring the potatoes …

Grading okra was a big job.  So was washing peanuts and yellow summer squash.  The younger we were, the less real help we were.  The whole family would be involved with the farm jobs, from hoeing to picking up rocks to washing peanuts to whatever needed to be done.  The list of what we’d all be involved in also included eating green and boiled peanuts. 

When I was about 8, I would ‘help’ grade okra by taking out the largest okra pods.  They were inedible.  These were the ones that the hands had missed two days ago. Okra pods grew so fast, if they were missed during a picking, they might not be marketable at the next picking.  But my ‘help’ wasn’t as much as I thought, I’m sure.  Little children always think they’re helping more than they are.  They simply can’t help as much as older children and adults.

Mother would quit working outside to go inside and start supper while the family was still out working.  She would start cooking meatloaf in the oven, potatoes in the pot, beans simmering, and other vegetables on the stove, all cooking or simmering.  After she had been back outside for a short while, she’d turn to me and say, “Edith Ellen, go stir the potatoes”.  At age eight, I’d start helping with supper in this way.  I would go in, take a big  spoon, and slowly stir up the potatoes to make sure that they were all cooking evenly. 

Then I’d be back outside, ‘working’ as long as there was room for me to work. When everyone was working, the youngest would be freed to go play (within sight) to allow room for the older siblings to work (more effectively).   

After a short while Mother would say again,  “Edith Ellen, go back and stir the potatoes and beans again”.  Off I’d go, back to pull up a chair and stir the pots.  Mother would come in every so often with me to check the pots too.  After all, Edith Ellen had to learn and she didn’t want my learning process to mean that supper was burnt. 

Finally she would call me, Sandra, and Stanley to go inside with her while she finished up supper, teaching me how finish up meals.  I didn’t realize that she was teaching me, of course.  I was either proud to be big enough to cook or wished I could go play with Sandra and Stanley. 

One of my best memories is of Daddy mashing the potatoes with the potato masher.  The pot would be full of potatoes.  I’d watch the potato masher go up and down, up and down, up and down, over and over.  Soon everyone was inside and we’d all sit at the table, Daddy would give God thanks for the food, and we’d eat.  Mmmm, I learned cooking the way most farm gals learned cooking.  Real food, cooked as other jobs were being done at the same time, and everyone tired and hungry when we sat at the table. 

What I do not remember is leftovers.  I reckon that with at least 8 others children at the table (from very young to grown) as well as Mother and Daddy (and sometimes family staying or living with us) there was never anything left over!

Age 10