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Dad would bring home a huge cedar tree that he had been admiring growing wild in some field on his travels around the county. It filled the house with such a wonderful aroma those first few days when it was fresh. And even though the tree would lose some of its fragrance in the coming days, by that time Mom would have been cooking so many good things for the holidays that I doubt we missed it much. Her old ham, with the browned fat cut into little squares and a piece of cloves stuck in the center of each square, with a bit of mustard, was not only pretty and aromatic, it was the best thing you could get to eat.
This year I got Mom’s dark fruitcake recipe from my sister, Libby, and proceeded to bring back some more good memories. I admit, I have already tasted it, and I declare it a huge success. The only thing I’m missing is the old 5-gallon lard car that Mom used to put the cake in after she baked it.
She would take a tiny little glass filled with apple brandy and set it in the middle of the cake. Then she would wrap the whole thing in a cloth, and seal it up tight several weeks before Christmas. Waiting to get a piece of that dark, almost black, heavy cake, with that wonderful smell of brandy, was almost as hard as waiting for Santa Claus to come. And Santa was here
And seeing Santa was also a certainty. If memory serves, it was the Saturday after Thanksgiving, and every kid in this end of the county it seemed, gathered at Bradford’s store for the opening of Toyland and a chance to sit on Santa’s lap, tell him what you wanted, and to get a piece of candy. Mr. Bradford opened the upstairs of his country store once a year, and when he did, the debght of the children in the community was palpable.
Christmas plays
And there was always a Christmas play at Church, and one at the Flint Hill Elementary School, as well. One year, I was
See FLINT HILL, Page A10
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