TALES FROM THE BAYOU: Sweets For My Sweet

sweets

 

Growing up in a poor family didn’t give me many chances to cater to my sweet tooth. I am a chocoholic from early childhood when I drank mug after mug of hot cocoa on a cold rainy school day while drying off in front of a fire.

Occasionally my mother would scrap enough change together to give each of her children a nickel and we would walk down to the corner grocery store to fill a bag with our choices for the day. As much as I loved chocolate, I knew even at four or five years old that sweet tarts and bubble gum at three or four pieces for one penny would last longer than one Hershey’s kiss for that same penny.

But those candy trips didn’t happen often so my sweet tooth had to be satisfied with whatever my parents could cook up at home.

My father spent many years as a cook for offshore oil drilling rigs and he was better suited for preparing meals for one hundred people instead of the six in his family. But occasionally he would decide to make homemade lollipops for us kids.  If I think about it now, it probably wasn’t too hard a task to mix the few ingredients together and pour it onto sticks lying on sheets of wax paper but to me, it was like someone had dropped me smack dab in the middle of Willy Wonka’s factory.  Oh the anticipation of waiting to be told I was able to grab my own sucker. To finally clutch that lollipop and be able to bite into that crunchy sweetness was well worth the wait.

But it is my mother’s donuts that I remember most growing up. Mother’s attempt to provide a special treat for her children came with good intentions but it was the execution that always seemed to be lacking.  Preparing the dough didn’t take long but when it came to the actual frying of the donuts, Mother had to use the only thing available to her. That was usually old bacon grease or old oil used to fry chicken or fish and then stored in a metal can on top of the stove. Let’s just say those donuts came out of the pan with an unusual flavor added to what should have been a sweet treat and not even a hearty dunking in sugar afterwards could quite mask the aftertaste.

There was no complaining allowed in our house where food was concerned since it tended to be a rare commodity so I always said thank you and made the most of a sticky situation. But you can bet to this day if I’m going to indulge my sweet tooth by buying a doughnut, it WON’T be fried in old bacon grease!

 

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Amelia Earmouse travels back through time to uncover little known events. You may THINK you know your history, but wait until you see what Amelia uncovers in book three of HISTORYS MYSTERIES.

Eleven-year-old Emma misses her father who’s serving in Europe during World War II. He leaves behind a treasure box with six compartments to be opened during her birthday week. He also tells her to watch for the gris-gris while he is gone. Looking out for swamp creatures and dealing with wartime rationing is hard enough, but now there’s a British refugee staying at the house! How will Emma enjoy her birthday and keep her decision to hunt the gris-gris a secret with a stranger following her around?

 

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donna - Copy

 

Best-selling, award-winning author, Donna L Martin, has been writing since she was eight years old. She is a 4th Degree Black Belt in TaeKwonDo by day and a ‘ninja’ writer of flash fiction, children’s picture books, chapter books, young adult novels and inspirational essays by night. Donna is a BOOK NOOK REVIEWS host providing the latest book reviews on all genres of children’s books, and the host of WRITERLY WISDOM, a resource series for writers. Donna is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators and Children’s Book Insider. She is a lover of dark chocolate, going to the beach and adding to her growing book collection.

TALES FROM THE BAYOU: The Kid Next Door

chocolate

 

Growing up in a small town allowed me to get friendly with our neighbors every time we had to move to a different house. I grew up during an era where you didn’t have to lock your front door at night. Heck, most nights during a hot Louisiana summer we wouldn’t even close the door in the hopes a light breeze would makes its way through the house since we didn’t have air conditioning either. 

The last house I lived in before I graduated was next door to a lady named Rowena and her young son, Damian. Rowena worked at the local beauty shop and was a single mom. Not something you saw much back then, but she was friendly and seemed to have money for the kind of luxuries I could only dream of.

Sometimes when Rowena worked late she would ask me to babysit her son on the weekends. The first time she asked if I could watch Damian I was shocked to hear my mother give her permission. I was never allowed to go anywhere, but I suppose the fact I was a mature 12 year old and it was only for a couple of hours at the house next door, Mother was persuaded it was okay. It didn’t even matter much to me that any money I made would end up buying cigarettes for Mother…the freedom and independence from being away from the house was intoxicating enough.

Damian was about 6 at the time and a cute kid, but I quickly realized the first time I went over to his house that his station in life far exceeded anything I could ever hope to achieve. That kid had every toy known to man and I took full advantage of playing with as much of his stuff as I could. My favorite was the Fisher Price Family Play Farm. I could play with that thing for hours and even confess to loving the animal sounds coming from the barn doors as I swung them open to let the critters out.

But it was what was in the kitchen that kept me going back every chance I could. Rowena was an extremely indulgent host and told me I could eat anything  I wanted whenever I looked after Damian. Her son, not used to wondering where his next meal was coming from or what ingredients might be in it, was quite content to eat hot dogs when I came over. 

I, on the other hand, stumbled across one drawer in their refrigerator that literally stopped me in my tracks. Pound after delicious pound of chocolate candy was stuffed in one of the crisper drawers.  Free for the taking and take it I did. By the handful. To someone like myself who only saw candy on the rare holiday, I simply couldn’t fathom the reasoning behind having a treasure trove of goodies whenever the sugar high mood struck you.

I don’t remember much about those babysitting days beyond that toy farm and the candy, but I do remember two things…

 

  1. Damian never had any interest EVER in eating any of that candy.

 

  1. I knew Damian HAD to be an alien from outer space.

 

It was the only way I could figure out why he would turn his nose up at the chance to dive into all that chocolatey goodness…

 

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HM Hunting Gris-Gris Epub cover

 

 

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donna - Copy

 

Best-selling, award-winning author, Donna L Martin, has been writing since she was eight years old. She is a 4th Degree Black Belt in TaeKwonDo by day and a ‘ninja’ writer of flash fiction, children’s picture books, chapter books, young adult novels and inspirational essays by night. Donna is a BOOK NOOK REVIEWS host providing the latest book reviews on all genres of children’s books, and the host of WRITERLY WISDOM, a resource series for writers. Donna is a member of the Society of Children’s Book Writers & Illustrators and Children’s Book Insider. She is a lover of dark chocolate, going to the beach and adding to her growing book collection.