Fair warning: things are going to get a little sentimental on the blog today:
My childhood summers were spent in North Dakota with extended family. This meant that my sister and I spent weeks with my mom’s parents – Grandma and Grandpa Schill. Nights were spent in our “fort” under the stairs, while our days were filled running around the garden, playing in the sandbox, or helping Grandma in the house with cooking and quilting. Grandpa Schill was a welder, and sometimes my sister would go with him to the shop. I was too afraid of the equipment, so this meant I got Grandma all to myself. These were the best days. Days of strawberry pie, filled with fresh strawberries from the garden, hand-made quilts, daily Mass, coloring books, and anything that the garden hose could wash off my little hands and feet.
When Grandma Schill passed away, my mom kept some of her old recipe cards. I get a chuckle out of her shorthand. One recipe calls for “butter size of egg” – evidence of a different generation’s less precise method of cooking.
I asked my mom for three recipe cards to frame and display in my kitchen. I matted the recipe cards on brown scrapbook-quality cardstock. I didn’t want to do anything that may damage these precious keepsakes.
So many people comment and ask about these framed recipe cards. It makes me smile, as I get to tell them proudly that these recipes came from my Grandma.
So now I have a little memory from Grandma Schill hanging prominently in my kitchen. They are a daily reminder of all the wonderful summer days we spent together.