“The Day We Thought Momma Was Going to Commit Murder”
All my sisters have to read is the name “Uncle Willard” to know this episode.
Our Uncle Willard was my Mom’s youngest brother. He was a kind, loving, gentle soul that we adored, would dance & dance with us and could work like a mule. Oh, and boy could he eat. We use to imitate his “Don’t mind if I do” phrase from the dinner table. Back then Mom use to make us sit the table and take all the food off the stove. We served dinner out of bowls…family style…..placed the dishes the way they were suppose to…forks on the left…cutting edge of the knife facing the plate on the right…spoon on the right of the knife…kool aid/tea glass above the right…serve from the right hand side of people…we were taught how to properly set a table with all the dishes…salad plates & goblets….there was no eating dinner whenever you felt like it…eat 3- 4 different things…..you ate what was cooked and you sat down at the table. We girls took weekly turns of cooking & chores.
One day…he made us so mad at him…..we were cleaning the garage and he was going in the house…so, we asked him to put our one & only pizza in the oven for lunch. He put it in with the wrapper on it! We were so mad at him for the mess he made! But other then that one time…he was a joy to be around.
Sorry, I digressed for a moment.
Our house is an old house. There’s a well by the back door that we filled with the plaster we broke out of the walls when we insulated the house. I remember when it had water in it. So, before we insulated….Mom made the statement that we need to remove the chimneys as part of the remodelling. You see, our house was heated by coal stoves and a coal furnace once upon a time. There use to be a chimney in the dining room and one in the kitchen.
Let me tell you…….we came home from school one day. We walked in the house and EVERYTHING …I mean EVERYTHING was covered with soot! Uncle Willard had taken a sledge hammer and busted out the entire chimney in the kitchen. He did not cover anything and there was soot from the front door to the alley! Black grit…black grit…black grit…on & in everything!
All we could do was start cleaning it up and repeat to him a gazillion times, “Mom is going to kill you”
True to her nature…she SNAPPED OFF when she came home.
But all ended well with that event. Since we slept upstairs and there was no heat source, the hole in the attic floor from the chimney provided us with warmth through that winter and some years after.
We enjoyed Uncle Willard. He was a good guy. He died in