Tag Archives: Grandad

Megalodon Fossil Tooth

January 3, 2025 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(If only my granddaughter’s tooth brushing was this joyful.) AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/XQYWuY (Example of what the tooth looked like that my grandson found.) https://images.app.goo.gl/EmtGmtXMyrbHvq2t8

My grandson Julian (6 years old) found a giant fossilized megalodon tooth in the backyard today. He brought his prize to show me, and it was quite impressive. It is probably the biggest limestone shark tooth I have ever seen. I suggested he go show Grandad (91 years old) and get a second opinion. I don’t think Grandad played along as well as I did, so Julian took it back outside to do some more excavating and promptly misplaced it.

Speaking of teeth, Charlotte (my 10-year-old-in-8-days granddaughter) has a loose one—I believe it is #8, a canine. She likes to wiggle it in the mirror and point out that she only has 2 baby teeth left in her mouth. How time flies. I remember when she was first cutting her little tiny teeth on her bottom gums and we were super excited. Now she’s old enough that I spent over an hour on the phone with Apple tech support trying to get the parental controls set up on her phone so we could figure out which objectionable content to allow and which to block to help with internet safety. One issue was that I apparently set a password years ago and forgot it. We tried everything we could think of, but the Apple people were stumped. There was no fixing it. We finally gave up and decided it was unsolvable. A few hours later, on a whim, I typed in 1,2,3,4, and it worked. So embarrassing.

Julian brought me half a Mini Coke with a straw in it yesterday.

“Here you go, Ema. You can drink this because I joined the army and can’t drink sugar anymore.”

Woohoo! I like this game. Apparently, Charlotte was his drill sergeant and got him drinking water only. She had him working out and doing obstacle courses all day long. I bet his little muscles are sore today.

Charlotte convinced Julian to wear a bonnet to bed the other night like she does. Her curly coils have to be protected by a silky wrap at night to keep them from getting frizzy or damaged. Julian has the complete opposite texture hair. But with Charlotte’s application of who-knows-what-goo and some little twists here and there, Julian awoke with one or two curls on his head. He was very proud of them. I was impressed he made it all night in the bonnet.

This morning, Charlotte made Julian the Coraline breakfast special. I have never seen the movie Coraline, but Charlotte is obsessed with it. Julian lucked out. All by her little self, she made an egg and cheese omelet, 3 slices of bacon, and toast with jelly. It was a masterpiece. This is the same girl who melted onto the floor in a puddle the other day when I asked her to push the vacuum a few times. She literally did one strip of carpet before collapsing from the difficulty of the task. The next time she acts helpless, I’m going to remind her how capable she is when she wants to be.

Julian pulled a prank on us today. He was at the top of the stairs, and Charlotte and I were in the kitchen area.

Suddenly, we heard his pitiful little voice whimpering, “Help me, help me. I can’t see. Everything’s dark. I can’t see. I need help.” He was really laying it on thick.

Charlotte headed his way to see what kind of a bind he had gotten himself into this time. She returned just as quickly, marching with her hands on her hips, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Julian appeared around the corner with his sweatshirt pulled up over his face like he was either trying to put it on or take it off; I’m not sure which. He was laughing so hard at his own joke that he ended up making us laugh, as well.

Grandad informed me that he was taking Charlotte to McDonald’s. She convinced him to take her to McDonald’s so she could spend her own allowance money on French fries. I tried not to be irritated. She already asked me and I said no. I told her to go make her own fries out of the perfectly good potatoes and oil we have here at home. They are easy to make in the air fryer. Grandad is a pushover when it comes to that girl. He was my grandfather first, and he never would have stopped what he was doing to take me to McDonald’s when I was a kid. He would have lectured me on saving my money and not begging all the adults all the time to take me places.

But honestly, I love that he has softened and spoils my grandchildren rotten (his great-great-grandchildren.) Every kid deserves at least one adult in their lives that is wrapped around their little finger. Mema was my person (Grandad’s wife of over 70 years and my grandmother.) She would do anything for me. Knowing that kind of love made me a strong woman who knows how to ooh and aah at shark teeth rocks and 10-year-old-in-8-days loose teeth for my own grandchildren. It all comes full circle if we put in the time and effort to be present in each other’s lives. And Charlotte is right that McDonald’s fries are way better than homemade. The girl knows her fries.

Rebekah Marshall @Home Studio

Poetry, Writing

Cook Book

January 1, 2025 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 364 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

We’re going through Mema’s
old cookbooks to see which
to keep and which to let go,
and the slices of 20th Century
home life represented through
food are an interesting study.
If I had more time, I would
categorize them and photograph
them all by decade before
selecting several recipes from
each and do themed nights
from the 50s, 60s, 70s and so on.
But, alas, I do not have that
kind of young people energy
anymore, so thinking such
thoughts and then writing
about them is about as far
as I can get, and that is ok.

Take for instance, a Home
Economics textbook from
1944 called Everyday Foods
that teaches girls to wear an
“inexpensive house dress,
or smock, or apron” and it
“should be washable, attractive,
and of course spick-and-span.”
Also, don’t forget your
“handkerchief…placed safely
in a pocket.” Wouldn’t want to
forget that—super important.
Girls are also encouraged
to be very careful what they eat.
They are given a list of “What
Carelessly Chosen Food May Do
To You: It may give you a ruined
waistline and a poor figure, a pallid
complexion, bowlegs, premature
old age, and deficiency diseases.”
They were seriously warned against
“pellagra, beriberi, rickets, anemia,
and scurvy.” I hope the boys
were warned somehow, as well.

Other favorites are the 70s style
cookbooks that favored varying
degrees of red, yellow, and brown
thematic layouts featuring many
Jello desserts and shrimp cocktails.
I notice a lot of celery and things
shaped into balls—ham balls,
coconut ice cream balls, Swedish
sausage balls, cocktail meatballs,
chilled melon balls; I could go on.
And what is baked Alaska? I am
so confused, even though I was
alive during that decade.
And bisques, who was eating so
much bisque? Do people still
eat bisque?

The 70s also saw the invention
of the crock pot. People weren’t
exactly sure what to call this
new cooking art form, but my
favorite is the Crockery Cooking,
though “crockery” as a term never
really caught on. It sounds fancy.
There is an introduction that
explains how to use a crock pot
and why it’s a good idea. I love it.

The 80s was the decade of
microwave cooking and Mema
had several books that not only
teach what a microwave is,
how to use it, how not to use it,
and how to cook every imaginable
food in one—bake a cake, bread,
pie, check; oysters casino, escargot,
clams-in-the-shell, coquilles, check;
whole casserole, check; coffee, check;
steak, small turkey, whole roast, check;
the microwave is a miracle invention
capable of revolutionizing the
American kitchen, but rule #1:
“Do not attempt to operate this
oven with the door open.” I guess
people had to be told you can’t sit
and watch it cook with the door
cracked a bit the way you would
with your stove or the lid of a pot.
The Amana Touchmatic II
Radarange Microwave Oven
Cookbook does due diligence
with teaching the importance
of not using metal implements
(it even explains arcing), and
assures the reader that every
recipe has been tested in a real
microwave by a “trained home
economist.”

We also found a binder of
recipes from Grandad’s mother,
Frances Capitola Bearden,
including such delicacies as giblet
sandwich spread, chicken a la king,
potato candy, mince meat (for
which you need an average size
hog head), loquat jelly, prickly
pear jelly, spudnuts, potato donuts,
salt dough for kids to play with,
homemade soap, and the best
carp bait for fishing with (which
include Wheaties, cottonseed
mill, and black strap molasses,
among other interesting spices.)

I did not inherit even one ounce
of interest in cooking, but my
daughter is very excited about
trying some of these recipes,
and it is going to be an adventure
to taste some long lost delicacies
of the last 80 years. Mema was
like me, a functional cook, capable
of feeding whatever size crowd
needed a full belly with satisfying
results. Nothing fancy, nothing
gourmet, but tasty and filling.
The fact that she saved so many
recipes with the good intentions
of trying them out someday
makes me chuckle because she,
like me, didn’t even like to cook.
She just enjoyed reading the
recipes, looking at the pictures,
and imagining the fun conversation
at the dinner parties when everyone
would be gathered around the table
having a good time. It wasn’t even
about the food. It was about the
entertaining, the laughter, the
storytelling, the getting together.
It was about all of us that she loved
and wanted to nurture with food.

@Home Studio – 364th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Cook Books photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Mini Coke

January 1, 2025 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 363 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

https://images.app.goo.gl/GsghpQ8M9DgLccip8

Grandad has a Mini Coke
when he’s craving a soda,
but isn’t really supposed
to be drinking sugary drinks
because he’s diabetic.

They are the perfect size
for Julian, if he’s been granted
permission by his mom
because it is early enough
in the day, he’s eaten real
food, and he’s already had
some water—basically the
stars have aligned and a
sugar bomb is allowed.

But for me, it does not hit
the spot. I feel like Hulk in
that commercial where he
and Ant Man are fighting
over the last Coke and, of
course, they end up sharing
because Ant Man only needs
a drop to be satisfied, but
poor Hulk gets the equivalent
of a thimble full to drink.
What the heck? He needs
a 10-gallon drum of Coke
to quench his thirst.

That’s how silly I feel
drinking a Mini Coke.

@Home Studio – 363rd poem of the year

Runner ups for the Mini Coke photos to accompany my poem:

Poetry, Writing

Ham Sandwich

December 30, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 356 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/VVIet0

When given his druthers,
more often than not,
Grandad chooses a ham
sandwich for lunch.

What about roasted chicken,
beef stew, spaghetti, or pizza?
No, just a ham sandwich
sounds good today.

Honey wheat sliced bread,
no need for toasting,
Kraft, the only mayonnaise,
and ham, no cheese.

Would you like some chips
or a salad on the side?
No, just a ham sandwich
sounds good today.

What about to drink—
iced tea, root beer?
Coke, water, juice, or milk?
His drink choice holds variety.

But if I try to fancy things up,
offer garnish or fruit slices?
No, just a ham sandwich
sounds good today.

@Home Studio – 356th poem of the year

Runner ups for the Ham Sandwich photos to accompany my poem:

AI couldn’t figure out how to assemble the sandwich.

AI was not exactly sure what to do with the mayo. Coca Cola Mayo!!!lol

These actually look really tasty, but Grandad would never eat cucumbers or ask for anything green on his sandwiches.

Poetry, Writing

Olive Green Yarn

October 2, 2024 rebekahjmarshall Leave a comment

(Poem 273 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

I needed a way
to display
my hair sticks
decoratively,
so I measured
and sketched
a design Grandad
could build
with his hands
and his tools
and his can-do
attitude that turns
ideas into art,
like a barn
or a staircase,
a balance beam
or doll furniture,
or a simple
wooden frame
with olive green yarn
stretched taut
between raised metal tacks
and a shiny gold hook
holding fast at the top
to hang my idea
for all the world to see.