Thanks! Bump!Though they never had extra money, they never felt poor as long as they had a neat house, clean clothes, and enough food to feed anyone who came in the front door. They worked to live, not the other way around.My favorite childhood meals were at Buddy and Ollies, eating around a big table in their small kitchen. A typical weekend lunch, which we called dinner (the evening meal was supper), included ham or a roast, corn bread, spinach or collard greens, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, peas, green beans or lima beans, fruit pie, and endless quantities of iced tea we drank in large goblet-like glasses. I felt more grown up drinking out of those big glasses. On special days we had homemade ice cream to go with the pie. When I was there early enough, I got to help prepare the meal, shelling the beans or turning the crank on the ice-cream maker. Come and buy
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[Somente usuários registrados podem ver os links. Clica aqui para se registrar...] webpage! Before, during, and after dinner there was constant talk: town gossip, family goings-on, and stories, lots of them. All my kinfolks could tell a story, making simple events, encounters, and mishaps involving ordinary people come alive with drama and laughter.Buddy was the best storyteller. Like both of his sisters, he was very bright. I often wondered what he and they would have made of their lives if they had been born into my generation or my daughters. But there were lots of people like them back then. The guy pumping your gas might have had an IQ as high as the guy taking your tonsils out.
[Somente usuários registrados podem ver os links. Clica aqui para se registrar...] There are still people like the Grishams in America, many of them new immigrants, which is why I tried as President to open the doors of college to all comers.