How old is grandma? Do you Remember when How old is grandma? Do you Remember when

Old grandma dating, plate of applesauce cookies

I do know it was very colorful; red and yellow tiles decorated the walls, which made the room warm and inviting, and the metal-edged table with the accidental cut from my dad's saw was also a bright red. She did take time to make a glass of tea. They would make the perfect accompaniment to an afternoon coffee or tea break.

Plate of applesauce cookies My husband, mother, and I shared a home the last few years of her life, so I have been able to leisurely do this job as I wish. In those days, food and love went together. I knew her better than mom.

She didn't forget her teeth. A woman who also was a good baker was famous among her family members and neighbors. I've never tasted strudel that good anywhere, not even one in this Vienna pastry shop.

She called me "mein kin," which was Yiddish for "my special child. She just didn't like wearing them, and she had stronger gums than anyone in the world. Eight to nine minutes was all it took to have these applesauce cookies rise and achieve a nice golden brown appearance while being baked in the convection oven instead of the 15 to 20 minutes as noted in the recipe.

Not my mother but my dad had purchased it; he liked to buy every new gadget. I decided to try out some of the recipes before passing the actual pages on to family members who may be interested in preserving these handwritten gems for posterity purposes. While we waited for the dough to rise, Gram cut the apples.

Source Recipe Folder Slowly but surely, I have been making an effort to Speed dating icf through the many accumulated possessions that were retained by my mother all these many years. Cool the cookies completely before packaging them up in a cookie tin or cookie jar.

I climbed up on the metal chair with the wide red vinyl cushion, and held out my hands for the inspection. My dough always ended up with holes in it, but we used it anyway. Women stayed home, cooked, cleaned, and watched the kids.

Recipe Folder

Recipes were written on the back of actual letters, and others on receipts of various kinds or even little bits of scrap paper of all hues and sizes. My hands and piece of dough always became much stickier than Gram's, so I had to add flour on the board, and stop several times to wash. The things that take the longest in my opinion are the personal Old grandma dating items like cards, old letters, photos, recipes, and similar items.

Much of it is in her handwriting, and some of it is in the handwriting of other relatives or friends. Gram, with her silver-gray hair pulled back with bobby pins, her long pink house dress dotted by tiny little flowers throughout, was busy working by the time I got up and dressed.

Buried amidst all of this I recently discovered an entire recipe folder that contained mostly handwritten recipes that belonged to my maternal grandmother.

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On a hot summer day, a fuzzy-tailed gray squirrel or a bright feathered bird might be perched on one of the tree limbs. Tiny, our furry white Pomeranian with the bright black eyes, was stationed under the table near my chair in anticipation of dropped food-- which usually ended up on his fur, making him sticky, too.

My eyes opened wide, my mouth watered, and my tongue licked my lips in anticipation of biting into a delicious piece of sugary cinnamon apple strudel.

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If you like this page then please share it with your friends. And I've certainly never at any other time or place had strudel that was so meaningful as that baked with Gram's love. My mind, however, traveled back in time. When she smiled at me, I started to laugh because her smooth, white skin around her mouth was sunken.

Gram never needed a break. My little yellow apron with the blue sashes was waiting on the chair for me.

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Mom said before Grandma became an old lady in her Old grandma dating she actually wore business clothes and owned a store where she made dresses and hats. Rolling, and rolling, and rolling the dough was my favorite.

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I managed to nibble on some of the apples and raisins, while Grandma pretended to not see me doing it.