Quote of The Day

Monday, February 11, 2008

Too Much Fridge Space

My Fridge Today

I found this Sunday Scribbling prompt " Fridge Space"daunting! Being the proud woman that I am, opening my messing fridge took some bravado! If you'd like to see a compilation of whats on the outside of many fridges in blogland visit Myrtlebeachramblings, then send in a picture of your fridge for display!

It was the summer of sixty nine, I was thirteen. Quite a handful, I’d been caught sneaking out while we were camping. I had no regrets about walking in the moonlight along the lake shores with a sweet American boy. It was innocent fun, stealing kisses, and giggles while sharing stories. I often wonder what happened to Richard. We kept in touch as pen pals for years; he even visited one summer with friends. The boys drove from Washington up to Canada in a Volkswagen bug with no real plan in mind. I remember how surprised one of the guys were that mom welcomed them to stay over. Like my home now, my childhood home was a haven for kids. Mom had a tumultuous childhood with an alcoholic single mom, so her intuition was always in top form. Knowing I was safety conscious she trusted the boys were harmless.

But I digress. Words entered in my diary were read fervently by my father. I felt pretty sheepish about disappointing him. Mom decided to ship me to her best friend’s house for the rest of the summer. It was a posh house, with a pool. Everyday I laid out by the pool reading a true story magazine. I wasn’t permitted to read them at home. So it wasn’t really much of a punishment. I babysat Sherry’s girls; we swam, talked and listened to music.

Sherry, whom I'm named after, but with a different spelling, was more current than mom. She lived a pretty swank life, dressing very stylish, up on the latest fads. She took me out and bought me a gray jumper shorter than mom would have allowed. I remember finally feeling like I was mod. She would dance with us girls to the latest music. It was fun there. A different atmosphere than I was used to.

Most evenings, after a day of hairdressing mom rushed to put on her house dress, then start dinner. She spent most of her time in the kitchen, cooking dinner nightly. Except on the occasional busy Saturday when she brought in take out chicken. Even then she'd prepared a salad to go with it! There always seemed to be pot of soup on the back burner of our stove. Sherry didn’t work, was out shopping or with friends most of the day, and they ordered in most nights. Although I do remember her specialty was spaghetti, she could cook, she just didn’t!

I used to admire how beautiful she was. Very cute at under five feet tall, and the epitome of the Valley of the Dolls era! I loved her laugh and smile. They had a housekeeper so I only had to clean up a few dishes and such, whereas at home I did a whole gamut of daily chores. It was a nice holiday for me being there, except for one thing. When I opened the fridge it was bare. Not even a pickle, no cheese, no jam, no condiments whatsoever, nothing. Our definition of a bare fridge would still include a selection of pickles, cheese, eggs, fruit, and all the condiments. I could make a peanut butter and jam, or pickle and cheese sandwich in a pinch. The cupboards were pretty much the same. They were wealthy, with many luxuries, yet they had no food. We had very average lifestyle with a house full of food and love!

7 comments:

Lucy said...

a home just simply isn't a home without a full fridge! (Must be my italian heritage speaking)
I loved your story about this time in life... I was left wondering if you still know Sherry and what happened to her? She sounds like a true '60's spirit. Mom sounds like a true Mom. As for your messy??? fridge, It looks Clean and inviting! NO Dust bunnies under it as mine has right now. (glad to see the fresh garlic, a staple around here!) xoxo

CattyCat said...

My fridge space post would have been the fact mine is only 1/2 full because I cannot bend over to reach things on lower shelves.

Hi you.

KaiBlueCreations said...

Aloha Sherri,
VW bugs, food in the fridge..
You are right about the wealth you have..lovely insight.
PEace and love, Kai

Mary Timme said...

I grew up in a family where once a week we could almost count on my dad to say, "We may not be rich, but we set a good table." Mom was a good if erractic cook and I'm sure I learned very early to control my life and comfort it with the intake of food. It was the only control I had. My refrigerator still/also looks a lot like yours.

myrtle beached whale said...

Thanks for the mention on your blog. I always enjoy your stuff.

keith hillman said...

Oh dear! I am ashamed at my fridge after reading your piece and the comments that followed! Lovely atricle though.

tumblewords said...

I love this story and to learn that your 'punishment' was so delightful. Neat post.

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