Gather Your Lambs
One more post about Easter and then Easter will be put to bed until next year.
Easter was always a fun time of year growing up. I would wait by the phone the week of spring break for the call. The Call. Grama would call her second youngest child to request my help. My help! My Grama had 17 grandchildren but I knew in my heart that I was her favorite, honestly, Gram could ask anyone but she asked ME.
When the call finally came in, I was ready to leap into action. When? When does she need me? Saturday? OK, I’m there. I am there!
Entering my grandmother’s kitchen was like nothing else in my life. The kitchen was so friendly. I remember the red and white chairs and the Formica table with its metal legs. Very vintage 1950’s. (Just in case you are trying to do the math, my story takes place somewhere in the mid 1960’s) White metal, spankingly clean cabinets. A vintage gas range that had the little side door for storage. And plants. There were always lots of plants in my Grandmother’s kitchen.
Today, the assembly line was mine. Yes, I was in charge of frosting and decorating 20 lamb cakes. 20 naked lamb pound cakes were lined up on the Formica table, the stove and the counter. I had my work set out ahead of me today.
In one bowl, the butter cream cheese frosting. Next to that bowl, a heaping bowl of fresh coconut. Several bags of jelly beans to the side. And let’s not forget the strings of red licorice. Ribbon, different colors. Spools of ribbon. Let us not forget the cardboard which is covered in aluminum foil.
Grama would tell me to wash my hands. Done. Let the frosting begin!
Those were such happy times in my life. My grandmother was such an extraordinary woman. She managed to show love to each of her grandchildren in such a way that each one felt that they were her favorite. However, she showed no favorites, but loved us all equally.
As a tribute to my Grandmother Harriet, I made 3 lamb cakes, a far cry from the 20 she produced each Easter season. Here is the lone lamb that took the place of honor on my Easter table this year.
I miss you dearly.