Exploding Eggs & Goose Eggs
One of the Ministers who influenced my childhood years, was from England. With the accent that made his sermons so much more interesting to listen to. Everyone liked him and his religion hung naturally on him. He just wasn't with us long enough. The good ones moved through our small community and on to bigger things quickly.
Reverand R. came to visit us one warm summer day. Now usually you invite the Minister inside to sit a spell. But, it must have been an unusually nice day or a nice day after a string of bad days, or for whatever reason, on this particular day, we visited outside. We had been talking for quite awhile, when suddenly there was a loud explosion type noise coming from inside the house. Everyone jumped, looked at each other and then ran for the house. But, we were stopped dead in our tracks when there was another "Boom". Then another followed by enough in rapid succession to give us pause. Maybe, we didn't want to go inside after all. We were standing outside the porch and kitchen door in confusion. No one was saying anything. Then Reverand R. suggested a prayer before we went inside. The explosions had stopped and we had our prayer. But, I don't remember now just what the minister prayed for. Dad wasn't there, so Mom was the resident in charge, but, the Minister was the man present. Neither seemed sure who should go in first. Emily Post never wrote the correct protocal for a situation like this. Mom did take charge and with a lot of caution she opened the door and went in, followed closely by Reverand R. The caution turned to embarrassment for Mom and gales of laughter from our Minister. Mom had put eggs on to hard boil before the Reverand R. arrived, and during the conversation she had forgotten them. They had boiled dry and since no one was there to take them off the burner, they had cooked long enough to literally explode. There was burned egg shell and egg all over the ceiling and walls. Some of it was flaking off and dropping in an extremely stinky mess. And the heat was still on and the pan smelled too. Still laughing and holding his nose, Reverand R. excused himself and left so we could clean up the mess.
Mom and I spent hours trying to get the egg off of the ceiling and walls. It had been hot enought when it hit a surface that it branded itself into paint and plaster. And, we lived with the smell of burned eggs for a very long time. It was also a very long time before Mom felt like making Dads favorite deviled eggs again.
Mom was sure Reverand R. would say something about it in Church the following Sunday. Such as how he prayed for Moms exploding deviled eggs. He had that kind of sense of humor, and she was prepared to be a good sport and take a ribbing. But, he didn't say a word to the congregation. He did thank her solomly on her way out of Church for "the entertainment" during his visit.
Our Church had several Banquets each year. There was a Mother & Daughter Banquet. The men and boys had to serve that one, and it was always a lot of fun. There was a Father & Son Banquet, served by the Mothers and Daughters. Then there was a Father & Daughter Banquet which the Mothers and Sons served. And, of course the Mother and Son Banquet where the Fathers and Daughters served. In other words, all of them were family affairs.
When the menu included noodles, Mom and our neighbor, G.M. were often asked to make the noodles. I remember one year when the volunteer who offered to supply the eggs delivered a lot of very large goose eggs. Mom and G. got busy making noodles at our house early one morning several days before the banquet. Before they had used up all the eggs, we had rolled out noodles on every surface available. We had a roller cutter and when they were ready, Mom had me cutting noodles, while they continued to use up the eggs making more noodles. I ran out of space to spread them for drying. We got out a collapsable wooden clothes drying rack and I filled it with noodles. Then G slipped home and got another rack along with one she borrowed from another neighbor. I filled both of them. Mom hung lines from door frame to door frame across the living room and I filled these with noodles.
When Dad and the boys came in for supper there wasn't any place left to fix supper or serve it. We all went over to G's. house for supper while noodles dried all over our house. There were enough noodles from those goose eggs for several banquets. Everyone thought they were the best noodles ever. But, Mom and G said they never wanted to make another noodle and someone else could do it from then on. I was in total agreement because my arm ached from cutting noodles. Imagine Mom and G. after rolling out all those noodles. I can still picture how our house looked covered in noodles.
Reverand R. came to visit us one warm summer day. Now usually you invite the Minister inside to sit a spell. But, it must have been an unusually nice day or a nice day after a string of bad days, or for whatever reason, on this particular day, we visited outside. We had been talking for quite awhile, when suddenly there was a loud explosion type noise coming from inside the house. Everyone jumped, looked at each other and then ran for the house. But, we were stopped dead in our tracks when there was another "Boom". Then another followed by enough in rapid succession to give us pause. Maybe, we didn't want to go inside after all. We were standing outside the porch and kitchen door in confusion. No one was saying anything. Then Reverand R. suggested a prayer before we went inside. The explosions had stopped and we had our prayer. But, I don't remember now just what the minister prayed for. Dad wasn't there, so Mom was the resident in charge, but, the Minister was the man present. Neither seemed sure who should go in first. Emily Post never wrote the correct protocal for a situation like this. Mom did take charge and with a lot of caution she opened the door and went in, followed closely by Reverand R. The caution turned to embarrassment for Mom and gales of laughter from our Minister. Mom had put eggs on to hard boil before the Reverand R. arrived, and during the conversation she had forgotten them. They had boiled dry and since no one was there to take them off the burner, they had cooked long enough to literally explode. There was burned egg shell and egg all over the ceiling and walls. Some of it was flaking off and dropping in an extremely stinky mess. And the heat was still on and the pan smelled too. Still laughing and holding his nose, Reverand R. excused himself and left so we could clean up the mess.
Mom and I spent hours trying to get the egg off of the ceiling and walls. It had been hot enought when it hit a surface that it branded itself into paint and plaster. And, we lived with the smell of burned eggs for a very long time. It was also a very long time before Mom felt like making Dads favorite deviled eggs again.
Mom was sure Reverand R. would say something about it in Church the following Sunday. Such as how he prayed for Moms exploding deviled eggs. He had that kind of sense of humor, and she was prepared to be a good sport and take a ribbing. But, he didn't say a word to the congregation. He did thank her solomly on her way out of Church for "the entertainment" during his visit.
Our Church had several Banquets each year. There was a Mother & Daughter Banquet. The men and boys had to serve that one, and it was always a lot of fun. There was a Father & Son Banquet, served by the Mothers and Daughters. Then there was a Father & Daughter Banquet which the Mothers and Sons served. And, of course the Mother and Son Banquet where the Fathers and Daughters served. In other words, all of them were family affairs.
When the menu included noodles, Mom and our neighbor, G.M. were often asked to make the noodles. I remember one year when the volunteer who offered to supply the eggs delivered a lot of very large goose eggs. Mom and G. got busy making noodles at our house early one morning several days before the banquet. Before they had used up all the eggs, we had rolled out noodles on every surface available. We had a roller cutter and when they were ready, Mom had me cutting noodles, while they continued to use up the eggs making more noodles. I ran out of space to spread them for drying. We got out a collapsable wooden clothes drying rack and I filled it with noodles. Then G slipped home and got another rack along with one she borrowed from another neighbor. I filled both of them. Mom hung lines from door frame to door frame across the living room and I filled these with noodles.
When Dad and the boys came in for supper there wasn't any place left to fix supper or serve it. We all went over to G's. house for supper while noodles dried all over our house. There were enough noodles from those goose eggs for several banquets. Everyone thought they were the best noodles ever. But, Mom and G said they never wanted to make another noodle and someone else could do it from then on. I was in total agreement because my arm ached from cutting noodles. Imagine Mom and G. after rolling out all those noodles. I can still picture how our house looked covered in noodles.
posted by LeeAnn | 3:24 PM
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