So How Old ARE You.....

We have a 1948 Nash in the Museum. (It was made in Wisconsin.) The driver's door is off (in storage) to reveal the interior of the front seat, and it's right inside the door on third floor, where I start my tours. As the kids come through the door, invariably at least one kid shouts "Suuuuu-WEEET!" I show off the car, asking the youngsters what they would expect to see if the car were new...they guess "seatbelts", and I tell them that "We learn from history". Then I tell them about bringing my baby daughter home in a laundry basket on the back seat of the car. (It was a Volkswagon and she was snuggled into a lot of cozy blankets.) Of course they're horrified.....

Well, today a girl asked, "How old are you? What was it like when you were a little kid?" I started thinking back, and when I got home I was hit by a real bout of Nostalgic Reminiscence. And I remembered one day in particular especially vividly for some reason. Now - if you're training for theatre you learn about something called "Sensory recollection" - seeing something can bring back a stark memory including all the senses...it might be the memory of standing in the kitchen, JUST tall enough to see over the edge of the table, and looking at and smelling those cinnamon cookies as Grandma took them out of the oven.

Well - I remember one time getting to go along when my family started preparing for a really big family dinner over at my aunt's house --I think it was a Passover Seder, or perhaps Thanksgiving. I apologize for the quality of the pictures....I think my big sister took the pictures because she had to stay by me. I wasn't allowed to be too close; I was only about three and would have gotten in the way:

Looking at this, I remember how excited Mom was when the guy from the meat market delivered the roasts. Of course, in those days she had to do a lot more work - I even remember her cutting the legs off chickens and putting them in the soup. Anyway, everyone used to get together to cook for the big holidays. You can see my Bubbeh here, she always said the meat around the ankles was the tenderest of all.

Uncle Izzy used to always get the job of peeling the food...bananas, oranges, mammoths. The bigger pieces he could get off the better because Mom could make clothes out of it and stuff. You can see my cousin Billy over on the left with Aunt Lucille and Uncle Bertram. He was a real brat back then but they were the rich branch of the family and Aunt Lucille always had to make a special meal for him because he always said he didn't like whatever everyone else was having. Even when Grandma saved him the bobbles to play with. He was spoiled.

See now, my sister took this picture because you can see Mom hurrying away with the tenderloin there. That was her speciality. Yeah, I think this must have been for Passover because we usually ate that part by the front leg instead of that beautiful tenderloin.

Well....I have to say, I was glad I found these pictures -- although you know how I said "sensory recollection"? I sort of wish I hadn't thought of this because I have to tell you.....I think I've spent the last 3,412 years trying to forget that smell. What was it like?

Don't ask. You don't want to know.

Anyone got any mints?