Queen Ginger Gets the Sadz.....

when she learns that the TV world's greatest Southern chef is living with type 2 diabetes!

Queen Ginger can't help but love Paula Deen!  She reminds the Queen SO MUCH of her dearly departed Momma G in so many ways!  Just not so much the blue eyeshadow part!

Momma G kept her hair naturally white, like Paula.  Momma G kept a coffee can of bacon grease on the kitchen counter.  Momma G knew you can't make divinity when it's raining.  And Momma G had type 2 diabetes.


And Momma G could cook up some of the best Southern dishes you ever laid a lip on!
















Queen G has blogged about diabetes before,  for that nasty disease has taken away too many people (and critters!) that she loved, and it's knocking' at her back door, as well!


The haters (and by haters I mean that asstit Anthony Boredom) have already started ragging on Paula, saying she should have revealed her diagnosis sooner, and that it's "in bad taste" for her to write cookbooks and host television programs heralding her delicious, if not someone unhealthy, cuisine while suffering from a disease likely caused by those foods!


Paula, in her own defense, claims that she never meant for anyone to eat her decadent specialties 365 days a year, which sounds fair, to this rather biased royal.  Growing up in the South, it's not like we had a pecan pie every weekend, or fried shrimp once a month to celebrate payday! Think about it, people: the traditions of the South are rural. In the "old days" in the most of the rural South, there wasn't a hell of a lot to do, so people celebrated just about anything they could justify, and cooked special meals whenever they had the opportunity to get together with others,which really wasn't that often! To this day, Southern cooks "fix" their best recipes for visitors, and calories be damned when there's company coming!


Additionally, there's no proof that the foods "caused" her diabetes.  While diet may play a part, and must be controlled to managed the disease, heredity and genetics could cause a person with the healthiest diet on earth to contract type 2 diabetes.


When Daddy G was first diagnosed with heart disease back in the 70's, it was hard for Momma G to part with her grease can, and her garlic salt, and her deep fryer- but she did it- not just for Daddy G, but for all of us.  She learned to use olive oil instead of bacon grease;  a "teflon pan" instead of an iron skillet; and the oven instead of a deep fryer.  It may have been too little, too late, but she educated herself with fervor to learn what was rapidly being revealed back then about heart disease, high blood pressure, cholesterol, and the like.


We still got fried shrimp on our birthdays, and maybe a pecan pie at Thanksgiving, but we also learned to enjoy grilled chicken, broiled fish, and boiled shrimp.  Just as, I'm sure, Paula's family does on a day to day basis!


So, go to hell, haters!!  Paula is good people, and she makes good food, the traditional way.  If that's a bad thing, Anthony Boredom, than you will have to prove it to me! Because I think Paula is a saint, and I hope someday, when her time on earth is done,  she and Momma G have a chance to whomp up a big ole batch of fried shrimp together! I can hear their laughter in the kitchen from here!

Someone's in the Kitchen with Ginger!!!

And as usual, that someone is Momma G!!  Check out this great recipe and the stories that go with it on The Low Salt Cajun Queen!

The 40's!!!

Houston is supposed to be in the 40's tonight, and Miss G is SOOOOO excited-  she just LOVES the 40's!

Really, it's the TEMPERATURE that's going to be in the 40's, and Miss G loves that-  it's the most comfortable time of year in South Texas!  But it got her thinking about how much she loves the era of the 40's as well- I guess because Momma G always made it seem so gosh darn FABULOUS!!

And it's really no wonder:  the 40's is when Momma G married the Handsomest Soldier EVAH and began to create the family that created yours truly!    It's kinda funny, really, the way Momma G used to talk about "the War", years after the conflicts in Korea and Vietnam had ended.  When Momma G said "the War", she always meant WWII, and she truly believed it was the worst and best thing that ever happened to this country.  It always seemed so strange to me that she seemed so enamored of war, and she would always hasten to add "oh, I hated the war, but I loved what it did for this country!"  It didn't make a lick of sense to me as a child, but I kind of think I get it now!

Momma G was a republican at heart, I'm afraid, and I don't think she had a lot of faith in FDR's "New Deal".  When FDR proposed a "New Deal" for the American people, she, like many others, thought it smacked of socialism, and while she liked the idea of putting Americans to work, she was dubious that the government spending at that level would resurrect the American economy.  How her tune changed after the bombing of Pearl Harbor!  Now, instead of spending to build roads and dams and ditches,  we are going to spend to defend our country- our homeland- our way of life!  Momma G, like so many other Americans,  saved the money she made working at the drugstore to buy war bonds. She used ration coupons. She rolled rags into bandages. And she never felt like the government was "making" her do it- she did it because she felt it needed to be done!

For Miss Ginger, the turning point in her "thought process" about America was her visit to the World War II Museum in her beloved New Orleans,  and a diorama they have at the very beginning that depicts the relative size of armies at the beginning of WWII.

Growing up in post-war, atomic age America,  Miss G just sort of assumed that the US had always been a superpower of the world, but those 5 piddly rows of plastic soldiers made her realize that it was not always the case!  The mobilization of America in response to the bombing of Pearl Harbor, as taught by Momma Ginger, and the WW2 Museum, was what rescued America from the depths of the great depression.

It makes sense when one thinks about the cause of the depression: excess manufacturing capacity.  After the industrial revolution, with modern processes and equipment,  factories could crank out products at unprecedented speed.  They were so efficient at meeting the demand for manufactured products that, before they knew it, the demand was fulfilled, and the products they created were no longer needed! With the demand for goods met,  factories were shuttered,  workers were laid off,  and entire towns went dark as the industries that provided their existence shrank to meet the satiated demand! Sound familiar, Detroit?

So, Miss G, what does all of your babble have to do with me, today?  Well, let me tell you, fellow revolutionaries!  We are experiencing a revolution not at all unlike the industrial revolution our forefathers faced!  Today's computer revolution has enabled single workers in one day to generate individualized letters that would have taken a pool of typists days to complete!  Spreadsheet programs allow one person to sift through piles of data that would have taken a team of analysts weeks to interpret.  Wired and wireless networks allow instant transmission of reams of information that would have once taken months of time and countless people to generate, print, collate, bind, and deliver. Our computer revolution has created the exact same "excess capacity" problem that caused the great depression, and just like that catastrophe, it is only going to get worse!

Now, don't think Miss G has gone all "warmonger" on you, and has decided that a war is the only way to end this terrible economy! That's not where she's going with this, at all! Because if you go back to the WW2 situation, it WASN'T the war that ended the great depression! What ended the great depression was the coming together of the American people, to face a common enemy, and to reach a common goal! The sad truth of the situation is that the human suffering of depression, hunger, starvation, and death was not enough to invoke the spirit and compassion of the American people to set aside their differences and fight for the right of every American to live with food, health, and a hopeful outlook!  It took the drama of bombs on American soil to get Americans to come together, prioritize the survival of our democracy above all else, and commit as individuals to doing the things that need to be done to ensure the survival of our precious way of life!

What's it going to take this time, America?  Who will have to bomb us this time in order for us to get our shit together?

Miss Ginger Mops Up! A Consumer Product Review!!

Today Miss Ginger felt well enough to try to clean the house a bit,  and realized the mops that dear Celia has been using have not been replaced in a jillion years!  The microfiber pads are getting raggedy, she has to hold the extend-able handle in the right position with Saran Wrap, and if you mop too fast the whole head falls off! Quelle dommage! It's a wonder the poor dear has stayed with me!


Being the giving soul that she is, (and not wanting to have to use that broken down equipment herself) Miss G took advantage of a lull in her miseries to run over to Ghetto Kroger around the corner, to pick up a new mop and a few other necessities.




As she carried in the sleek, aerodynamic Freedom Mop she had just acquired, she realized just how much housekeeping had changed since her childhood, when our unfixed Irish Setter Holly would celebrate her "seasons", and Momma G would follow behind her dutifully with the "dog mop",  dabbing away at the droplets the escaped the poor beast's diaper! Momma G always kept 2 mops hanging on the water mains that fed the water heater. The newest one, her "good" mop, was used for general housekeeping.  As it became ratty and tattered (and one of the 5 boys needed a wooden mop handle for a school/scout/athletic project), the "good" mop was converted to the "dog" mop, to be used only to clean up any of the disgusting things that spill out of Irish Setters with amazing frequency. So, a new "good" mop was acquired, leaving the old "good" mop to thank it's lucky stars it was not yet the old "dog" mop, which by this point had generally been beheaded, it's rigid body forming the support of some 8 year old boy's engineering project. Good Mop... Dog Mop....Stickball. A rebirth, of sorts- "ashes to ashes, mops to mops...."   But I digress!

Back in Momma G's day, there were but 2 kinds of mops- string mops and sponge mops.  Momma G was not a fan of the sponge mop- it didn't hold up well to bleach, a necessary warfare chemical in Momma G's arsenal.  Our mops were string mops, hanging on the water heater looking like two bad tranny hookers after a night at the car wash!


Momma G would be AMAZED at the variety of mops available today, with interchangeable pads, motorized sprayers, and more plastic body parts than Amanda Lepore! Miss G was like a kid in the candy store looking at all the options, but she's had her eye on this practical beauty for awhile!




The Freedom Mop from Libman seems to Miss G to be a great marriage of convenience, good design, and value-  all important criteria in the quest for Miss G's ever coveted lipstick rankings! Miss G has always avoided the "spray mop" category, largely because they require their own (expensively packaged) proprietary cleaning solutions! They go so far as to engineer the bottles where you would have to break the top off to open them, rendering them completely useless for refilling! Some even use disposable pads that aren't even durable enough to clean an average size house without disposing of several!  What a waste!!




The Freedom mop uses a cleverly designed solution tank that is designed to be refilled over and over again.  It's your choice whether to buy large bottles of premade solutions to pour into it, or to fill it with your own homemade concoction, but either way save over the cost of the other brands' overpriced, over engineered bottles! The large trigger at the handgrip has great leverage, so you don't pump your hand into cramps as you spray the solution, and the removable pad sticks on firmly with corner to corner velcro, so it stays flat and won't come loose!  You can buy extra pads to change them quickly as you move from one room to another with different surfaces!  Best of all, once you're done, you can throw all the pads into the washer with the rest of your cleaning rags, and they'll be fresh and clean for the next use!  No more drag queens on the water heater, Momma G!


Whether you fill it with Clorox, Bona, or Anti-icky-poo,  the Freedom Mop from Libman certainly makes buckets and wringing obsolete!  For quality, design, ease of use, and sustainable use of resources,  Miss Ginger gives it the coveted 5 lipsticks!!!

Leave a comment and less Miss G know what products YOU would like to see her review!!!

The Smells of Childhood....

...as remembered by Miss Ginger!

Miss Ginger has read somewhere that fragrances are the most remembered human perception. We may or may not remember sights or sounds, but are likely to always recognize scent. Such was the case today when a lady at the store was wearing Oscar de la Renta fragrance. It made Miss G whirl in her shoes when she caught a whiff of it, because that was the only fragrance Momma Ginger ever wore! Actually, Momma G was allergic to most perfumes, but her "fragrant luxury" was Oscar de la Renta Dusting Powder, applied lightly after she took a shower! Miss G has always associated the scent with Momma and cleanliness, two of her favorite things on Earth! It got Miss G to thinking about other childhood smells.

My maternal grandmother Zha Zha (that's a whole 'nother blog post!) used Rose Milk hand lotion... the kind they used to advertise on the Lawrence Welk Show! It used to come in a pump bottle shaped like a milk can, but apparently now comes in this plain, non-descript bottle. Many people find the milky rose smell kinda icky and "old ladyish", but it reminds me of my Zha Zha, so I love it very much!








The final of my fond childhood smell memories was a bush outside of my Great Aunt Nen's house, which Momma called a "magnolia fuscata". The buds looked like tiny little magnolia buds, no bigger than the tip of your little finger, and they opened into the tiny litte miniature replicas of a magnolia blossom. But they smelled like a heavenly mix of flowers and bananas, and when the morning sun warmed that bush on a spring morning you could smell it from blocks away! Aunt Nen loved the smell and liked to bring the blossoms indoors, but she found it too strong to have them indoors for too long. So she would put a handful of the buds into this little ceramic pot that she had, and would set the lid askew so the fragrance could waft out. Then, when it became too strong, she would situate the lid completely and "shut off" the fragrance for a while. Miss Ginger still has the pot in her kitchen, but alas has been unable to locate a magnolia fuscata shrub to plant in her yard!

Miss G also remembers some smells that were not so pleasant, but they still make her smile to remember as well.

Growing up, we had an Irish Setter named Holly (this is not actually her) that Miss G loved very much. As is common for the breed, Holly was prone to ear mites, and often got terrible ear infections from them. And when those ears got infected, Lord did that dog stink! When Momma G could take the smell no longer, she and Miss G would go to the vet to get a bottle of the pink ear wash that was the preferred treatment, at least in those days. We would take the poor dog on the back porch, and Momma would help me hold the dog and try to distract me from the HORRIBLE smell as I washed that putrid stuff out of her ears, trying to focus on Momma's soft, calm voice instead of the squirming dog or the nausea welling up in my throat! God, that was a horrible smell!

But, not as bad as the odor at one of Daddy G's best clients, Miscele's Meat Packers. Get your minds out of the gutters, people... it was a SLAUGHTERHOUSE, and it was one of the worst smelling places on Earth! Miss G only ever had to go there with Daddy a couple of times, and she never went past the front reception area, certainly never into the plant itself where there would be dead animals and uncontrollable stench! But that horrible odor started as one pulled into the parking lot, and even the offices stank to high heaven! Miss G remembers once saying to the receptionist "How do you stand it?" to which she replied "Oh, after awhile you don't even notice it!" I can't imagine ever getting used to that smell!

And Miss G's final olifactory memory for today: the pogy plant! South of Lake Charles, where Miss G grew up, was a little coastal town called Cameron, Louisiana. Near Cameron, where the ferry on Highway 27 crossed the Calcasieu Ship Channel, was a fish processing plant where they made fishmeal for fertilizer and animal feed. Fishing for Gulf Menhaden, or pogy, was a big commercial venture for the community. The fish are similar to the menhaden that are used to make sardines, but due to the heat in the Gulf Coast area, they can't be fished successfully for human consumption because their tiny little bodies begin to spoil too rapidly. So, vessels full of rotten fish would pull up to this plant to have have their cargo offloaded, ground, and packaged. When we would go fishing we would boat right past it! As we approached it we always hoped for calm waters and no wake from the ferry. Then we would shout "Floor it, Frank!", and as Daddy G gunned the engines to speed us by we would take a huge gulp of air and try to hold our breath until we made it past the plant! You can't even IMAGINE the horrible stench of that place, but Miss G can remember it like it was yesterday!!

I hope you have enjoyed this sniff back in time! What are some of the fragrances and odors you remember best?!

Worried sick...

about my coastal homelands!!

Miss G grew up in Lake Charles, about 20 minutes from the Texas border and about 30 minutes from the Lousiana Gulf Coast. She spent many a Saturday and Sunday boating and fishing with her bubbas and Poppa G, mostly in Calcasieu Lake, which on this map is shown to the left of Grand Lake. Sometimes we'd even take the boat out into the Gulf, but it was really too small if there was much of a swell to the tide.

Anyway, this big oil slick is sure to wreak havoc on the Gulf Coast, and it looks like the Coastal Marshes of Louisiana will bear the brunt of it. I know a lot of people think the Gulf Coast of Louisiana is just a gross muddy swamp, but really, it is an incredibly complex and delicate ecosystem, and home to many, many creatures of value both for their uniqueness and their commercial demand.

On the unique side, the Eastern Brown Pelican is perhaps Miss Ginger's most beloved. When Miss G was a young child, the Eastern Brown Pelican, which is the state bird of Lousiana, was nearing extinction. I remember how excited Momma G would get on the rare occassion that we sighted one while driving near the coast. Through valiant preservation efforts, their numbers have been restored, and they are often seen swooping and diving for fish in shallow coastal waters.

The Blue Crab is the "other crustacean" in Louisiana, perhaps not a well-known as crawfish, but just as delicious! They are boiled or steamed, or included in gumbo, and are the main ingredient in "shecrab soup".

When caught immediately after molting, while the shell is still soft, they are fried whole in a crispy batter. Kind of strange looking, I know, but they are quite delicious!

Then there's the mullosk that's pretty much synonymous with New Orleans Seafood, the Gulf Oyster. Like most invertabrates, it filters it's food out of the water, so any pollution will poison them first. They are then eaten by other animals, and the death cycle spirals out of control.

I'm not sure what's going to happen. They say the oil is still leaking, and that the slick is becoming so large that containment booms can't circle it. It could take years to clean up, and it certainly won't be removed by the time the tropical storm season begins. If summer storms, or heaven forbid a hurricane, were to push that mess into the wetlands, they might be destroyed forever.

The Audubon Society has long been a protector of birds and habitats along the Gulf Coast. They are coordinating rescue efforts, but it's going to cost a fortune! Miss Ginger implores interested parties to help by writing a check- any amount would help! Or perhaps even volunteering! The animals are going to need us!

And when you go shopping, be sure to pick up a bottle or two of Dawn dishwashing liquid! You know that's what they use to get the oil off the birds! For every bottle you buy, the makers of Dawn will contribute a dollar to the relief efforts!

Just as Louisiana was getting solid footing after Katrina, this had to happen. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn!!!!!

Southern Cooking with Miss Ginger!

Miss Ginger had some crab cakes from Sam's Club in the freezer that she wanted to fry up, and she needed something to go with them, so she made this.

Now, I know you folks in other parts of the country THINK you know what this is, but you would be wrong! I'll bet you think it's a big ole bowl of potato salad, right?

WRONG! That is a big, delicious bowl of pitatisalid, a delicacy only available in the South!

There are many Southern foods that have yankee cousins, but pitatisalid is probably the most common. While potato salad is commercially available in the South, it is typically shunned by true Southerners in favor of the local variety of pitatisalid. Every region in the South has its own way of making pitatisalad, adding everything from peppers and spices to bacon and ham!

And, while most cooks in the South can make a good pitatisalad, no one can make the BEST pitatisalid. Only ones' mother can make the BEST pitatisalid in the South!

Momma Ginger DEFINITELY made the best pitatisalid Miss Ginger ever ate, and Miss G misses it woefully, especially at certain times of year!

Momma G had an old Tupperware ham keeper that was like a big rectangular bowl that was pointed at one end, making it shaped like an extended home plate. It was the only think she ever used to make pitatisalid, and it held a ton! She would usually make a big batch on Fridays if Miss G's brothers were coming home from college for the weekend, because it "sits good" and we never knew exactly what time they would get home. Even though she owned a food processor, she chopped everything by hand, and Baby G would sit across the breakfast bar and chatter away while Momma chopped, and chopped, and chopped! As Miss G got older, Momma would let Miss G help by peeling the potatoes and eggs. I watched her make it a thousand times, and I do everything just the way she did, but it's just NEVER as good as Momma G's was! We typically had it several times in the spring, with Easter ham, boiled shrimp, or boiled crawfish. And in the fall, we had pitatisalid during gumbo season. Even though rice is the typical "add in" for gumbo, a lot of people in Louisiana, including some of Miss G's brothers, put pitatisalid in their gumbo! If you get a really spicy gumbo, the creamy pitatisalid kind of balances out the heat.

The other reason Miss G loves pitatisalid is that it's like 2 foods in one! The night that it is made, it is served warm, and it's fresh, and aromatic, and one can taste the flavors of the potatoes and the vegetables. Then, the next day, after it's been refrigerated, it becomes a creamy, unified forkful of yum!

Miss G's pitatisalid tonight was good.... but not as good as Momma G's!

Sewing With Miss Ginger!

Those of you who have followed TFBOMGG for a while know she is quite an accomplished seamstress, and makes most of her own gowns and tents! Each year, there's one special outfit to be made for her Mardi Gras ball, and now's the season! Sewing is a skill she picked up gradually from Momma Ginger, and Miss G still gets lots of help from Momma G when she sews today!
Some of you who have lost important people may know what Miss G's talking about- they are with you always and "talk" to you all the time! Momma G talks to me most when I am cooking, sewing, or contemplating an illegal left turn! "Don't even think about it! If it were safe to turn left they wouldn't have made it illegal!"

When Miss Ginger takes on a sewing project, Momma G is with her every step of the way!

"That lame' is going to be a bugger to sew! How about a nice Ultrasuede® instead?"
"You'd better pin that! If you try to sew it freehand, you're gonna have a mess on your hands!"
"Make sure you press that flat before you go on or you're gonna have a lump you'll never get rid of!"
"Just cut and sew it and get all the seams in place. I'll put the hems and zipper in while you're at school!"

Okay, she doesn't so much say that last one anymore, but damn, I wish she would! Miss Ginger HATES putting in zippers!

So, Momma G watches over Miss G's sewing table with a mentor's eye, and pops thoughts into my head constantly as I work through project after project. She may not be here to help physically, but she helps in her own heavenly way!

And, here on Earth, I have 2 other helpers to keep me in stitches, as well!

If you've ever tried to sew from a pattern, you know that they are notoriously confusing!!!

"With RIGHT sides together, pin coat upper front along welt line, matching small dots, as shown, fig. 1a. Baste, stitch, and trim within 1/4 inch."

WTF?? Miss Ginger has NO patience with "patternspeak".
However, apparently "patternspeak" and kittehspeak" are quite similar, and Jackson picked up on it quite quickly. He absolutely LOVES patterns, and "reads" them endlessly whenever they are avaialable. He's teaching this art to his sister Shelby, as well!

It comes in quite handy, really! Jackson is great a keeping my cutting line, and he points it out and stays focused until I get all the pieces cut!

Shelby, on the other hand, has the attention span of a gnat, and really can't be bothered to carry the torch of the family art forward!

Being the nature lover that she is, she must rather while away the day making love to her "shrub"!

What was the last craft project you attempted, and how did it turn out? Pics?

CHOKED!

OMG! It was hot daddy Tom's shining moment, and he blew it! For the "High Stakes Quickfire", the stakes were that the loser of the Quickfire would be sent home. And the nasty, fat, shrapnel-faced lezzie who can't boil water lost. TC fans everywhere cheered! And Tom tells her "Please pack you knives a LEAVE?!?!" Really?! Tom?! It's the classic catch phrase of the show, and you screwed it up?!
It's GO, you uber-hot, chrome-domed morsel! "Please pack your knives and GO!"

Never send a man to do a woman's job, Momma G always said!

I'll NEVER Get to Work Today!

The GingerSnaps are leaving such FABULOUS posts that are giving me GREAT ideas for things that I simply MUST get them written before Boy G goes to work! I hope he's not late!

Zombie Mom over at Purses and Poop posted a pic of an adorable hat she knitted on the trip to NYC. Check out her notes and more adorable pics here.

It SO made me think of my late mother! My mother was an AVID knitter! All of my life, I remember her hauling yarn and needles everywhere we went! In the car, at our endless parade of ball games (there were 5 of us!), in waiting rooms, at PTA meetings- everywhere, Momma's hands were busied with her needles and yarn. Beautiful stuff! And always a conversation starter for her, as people always inquired about her project. When we were kids, there were lots of acrylic stocking caps and afghans, but as she got older and money could be spent on things other than college, as daddy travelled the US on business and they travelled the world together, she sought out and found beautiful wools, cashmeres, and other fibers that she collected without even knowing what she would make. "I'll NEVER be able to buy Scottish wool IN SCOTLAND again!", I remember her exclaiming.

After Daddy died, and her life slowed down a bit, I never worried about her getting bored, and she didn't! She had turned the old nursery into a craft room, and my old toy closet was the yarn closet, filled with potential sweaters, afghans, and more.

When the grandkids were born, she had to "shift gears" a bit and purchase more yarn in pastel and primary colors, in order to be able to knit booties and caps, then larger and larger sweaters as the kids grew up. I'm not sure if the kids appreciated those items as much as she appreciated the chance to make them!

Sometimes, when I would visit, Momma would send me to the craft room to fetch a ball of yarn or a set of needles for her, and I would always come back and tell her-"you'd better sit there and knit your little fingers to the bone, because you've got enough yarn in there to last 3 lifetimes, and you're not getting any younger!" That joke always made her laugh, even though I told it like a million times!

One morning in 2002, as I was getting dressed for work, the phone rang and it was my brother Arthur. "Are you sitting down?" "No." "Well, sit down." "Okay, sitting". "Momma had a stroke." "Where is she?" "Memorial Hospital ICU". "I'll be there in 2 1/2 hours".

That was the conversation. I jumped into my truck, balling, and hit the road to fly home on the trip I had made SO MANY times in my life. Houston to Lake Charles. Boring drive. I know it like the back of my hand. It was like a comfort zone to me. The road home.

But not this time. I had no idea what I was driving myself into. Arthur, who had had a laryngectomy by this point in his life, had trouble talking on the telephone. And in distress, it was even worse. So rather than trying to get him to hash through the conditions, the prognosis, etc over the phone, I just jumped in the car to save time.

That was the longest 2 hours of my life. Why, oh why had I not asked how she was? It's okay, I told myself. If she's in ICU she's still alive. She's in the hospital. They can make it better there!

I went straight to the hospital, and spent the day there. It was not good. She could not talk, or open her eyes, but she seemd to smile a bit when I touched her face and spoke to her. I KNOW she knows I was there! The baby she brought into the world was there to see her out of it.

She seemed settled for the night, so we worked out shifts to stay with her, so others could rest. We had no idea what we were in for, but we expected a long haul. Arthur, of course, insisted on having the first night. I went to her house for the first time since the ordeal to try to rest.

Walking into my childhood home, I was and was not prepared for what I walked into. My entrance was normal enough, and as soon as I opened the door, I smelled that distinctive, 40 year old house fragrance that says "I'm home". As I walked through the kitchen to her chair, I was not prepared for what I found next. There, all over the floor in the family room, was the carnage the EMT's had left behind in their attempts to resucitate and stabilize her. My heart sank as I looked at all the pastic packages, swaps, tubes, and paper that had wrapped and held sterile the implements they used to try to save her life. I fell to my knees, and began collecting them up and discarding them into the trash can that always sat by her chair. And there, on the floor, where her feet would have been, was her knitting. A green tweed tube, to become a sweater, I think. Probably for Arthur. She always knitted greens for him.

After she died, I tried long and hard to find a good home for the yarn. It was good stuff, and I wanted to give it to an accomplished knitter who would make beautiful things from it. We found a coworker whose mother knits, and as I was packing it up to send it away, I found 2 shopping bags at the back of the closet. I pulled them out, and marvelled at the tiny, little bitty hats and booties she had knitted with the smallest scraps of yarn. I called to Arthur- "come look at this!" "Why did Momma knit all these doll clothes?" I asked. "Meredith is way too old for dolls now!" I was amazed at the amount of detail on the tiny little garments!

"George", Arthur said, "Those are for the preemies." He had a hard time with p-r sounds, so I wasn't sure I heard right. "The preemies? What preemies? We don't have any preemies in the family, and I don't think we're expecting any!"

"The preemies at the hospital", he replied. "What hospital?", I asked, trying not to become exasperated at his broken speech. "Arthur, you're not making any sense."

He took a deep breath and explained "George, Momma saved up her scraps and knitted these little tiny hats and booties for the babies at the hospital. When they are born, the regular hats and booties are too big, so she makes these little tiny ones so they won't fall off. And she makes these little mitttens to keep them from scratching their faces. Look, they don't have thumbs, because she can't knit a thumb that small!"

Oh, my God, I started balling! That was the sweetest thing I had ever heard! I couldn't believe she had never told me about her little preemie project!

He continued to explain. "When she had a sack full of them, she would take them up to the hospital and give them to the nurses. I always drove her up. They were always so glad to get them. You should take these up there when you can."

I wanted to keep them SO BADLY because they were so cute, but what would I do with 50 little doll hats. Besides, they were for the preemies, and that's who she wanted to have them!

But I couldn't do it! I coudn't stop crying long enough to get there, and I KNEW if I went there with them I would end up blabbering like an idiot!

So, when my best friend's mother came to check on me that night, I gave her the preemie clothes to take to the hospital. After a good cry together, she said she would be proud to take them for me!

So, every time I think about knitting, or yarn, or preemies, I think of Momma. It feels good now.

A Sign from Momma G!

Miss Ginger is not a religious person, as you know, but she is a faithful person and does believe in God, and is not willing to deny the existece of His Son, Christ our Saviour. She admits it's kind of a far fetched story, but she hasn't lived a clean enough life to risk not pledging her faith. She hopes she hasn't offended anyone's beliefs with this revelation, this is simply her beliefs.

Anyway, as she waxes nostalgic though her 2nd bottle of pinot grigio, she has decided to unpack a few more family decorations. She started with a stained glass nativity given to Momma G by her brother, Brother AuGeo, a real honest to God, wine-making, high school teaching Christian Brother (only he teaches college.) Anyway, it was never a nativity that Momma G set out. And now Miss G remembers why- the Baby Jesus is missing. Miss G is going to try to make one out of a pinot grigio bottle tomorrow. Art is art.
Miss G also came across the "dime store" (remember those???! TG&Y?!!) nativity that Momma G did sometimes set out. As Miss G unwrapped the pieces onto the dining room table, Jackson and Shelby instantly fell to their knees in reverance.
After a minute I realized why.... Momma G's nativity had 2 Josephs!! (There was a Mary, too, in the bottom of the box.) It's the only family unit these babies have ever known! I think in her way Momma G is sending me a sign that she's glad I'm happy, healthy, and safe! Miss G never had "the talk" with Momma, although she's pretty sure Momma knew. Momma G came from a "don't ask, don't tell" generation, and Miss G happily accepted that from her! She always encouraged my interests, respected my talents, and never, ever, asked Young Ginger to repress any tendencies. While Boy G's brothers were HORRIFIED that their baby brother knew the motions to every cheer their high school cheerleaders performed, Momma G never told her to stop (I KNOW my brothers begged!) Momma G let Miss G be Miss G- and I love her so much for that! Let's raise a glass to Momma G- GOD I miss her!

Welcome to our FABULOUS World!

Miss Ginger welcomes new GingerSnap "Joy" to the FABULOUS world of the G-Snaps! We're glad to have you, honey, and now that you're part of the family I'm gonna freak you out! You know from time to time Miss G likes to do "look alikes", where she puts two pictures together to show the resemblance. So here ya go:

Now, here's the really freaky part- the lady on the right is the late Momma G! There is another photo of her when she was a bit younger, where she is wearing (get ready) a salmon colored top, and her hair is a bit whiter and straighter, but I can't find it right now! Anyway, in my mind the resemblance is uncanny, but that's not all! Her name was Joy! Joycelyn, really, but everyone called her Joy!

Anway, welcome to the GingerSnaps! We're gald to have ya!