Stop the presses. There will be no church bazaar

My hopes were dashed, momentarily, when I discovered the church directly across the street from my front porch was not holding a bazaar in the near future.

The notice I had noticed on their front door related to a schedule for masses.


However, my local community newspaper has a long list of upcoming events and I bet bazaars will be listed. And if there are bazaars, there will likely be fresh baked goods. And at least one loaf of bread still warm from the oven.

If Mrs. Blackburn was alive today, I wonder if she’d still sell her homemade bread for fifty cents.


["Above the church door": photo by GAH]

Gosh, wouldn’t that be a deal?

Fifty cents for a taste that one can remember for 45 years.

The list of ‘tastes that I can remember from 1964’ would be quite short if I wanted to take the time to think...

And think...

Tastes from 1964 (that I can remember):

my mom’s homemade soup (she kept it cold in the winter by putting the pot outside the back door with a board and rock on top of the lid to keep the odd dog or rabbit out of it)

french fries from Goosen’s greasy spoon (they came in a paper cone and I ate them with a toothpick. I usually added enough salt and malt vinegar to stop a horse!)

I’ll get back to this list. I might get two or three more tastes. But I left the heater on in the workshop - I have eight birdhouses that need some trim.

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