Category Archives: Memory Monday

Memory Monday – Boiled Potatoes

Last night I dug up some potatoes from our garden.  It was fun lifting the potato fork out of the soil to reveal our harvest… ready for the picking.  I knew exactly what I wanted to do with the potatoes as soon as I saw them.

Fresh red potatoes

I wanted to make boiled potatoes.  It’s not a fancy recipe but it’s a dish that brings back a bunch of memories for me.  You see, I associate boiled potatoes with my Grandma.

I don’t recall ever having them anywhere else than at my Grandma’s house.  It’s not the kind of food you’d see at a restaurant and because of it’s simplicity you probably wouldn’t serve it to guests.

It is, however, an easy and inexpensive side that goes well with just about any meat.  Perfect for a hardworking Grandma who usually needed to feed a crowd and feed them quickly.

To make boiled potatoes you just scrub, quarter, and then boil them in slightly salted water.

Boiling potatoes

When a fork easily pierces them you drain the water and serve.

As a kid I loved smashing the potatoes down with my fork making lots of fork marks. (Who am I kidding? I still find this fun!)  Throw on a pat or two of butter and then smash again!  Add a little salt and you’re ready to eat.

Boiled Potatoes, pork chops & broccoli

I remember having many meals at my Grandma’s house that included boiled potatoes.  Potatoes my grandparents grew in their massive garden and then stored in the cellar.

I guess that’s why to this day boiled potatoes are one of my favorite ways to make potatoes.

Is there a food you don’t remember having anywhere else besides at your grandparent’s house?  What is it?

You’ll find another memory from my Grandma’s kitchen here!

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Memory Monday – Church Camp

We’ve reached the time of the Summer where Church camp pictures have been trickling into my Facebook newsfeed.  It’s been fun seeing all the smiling faces!

It’s also given me a chance remember the times I went to Church camp… both as a camper and as a junior counselor.

I went to church camp in 6th, 7th, and 8th grades.  Each year was more fun but they got progressively better each year because we knew the camp and what to expect.

Church camp is the first place I remember being in a canoe and row boat.  We got to take them across the lake to get to the beach for swim time.

Singing camp songs was always a favorite of mine as was outside Bible study.

The food was great too!  I din’t know it at the time but I’d end up eating the camp cook’s food in college too!  The woman who spent her Summers as a camp cook is the same woman who spent the school year as my fraternity’s cook.

I never went to Church camp alone.  One of my best friends went along each year.  It was good to have someone along that I knew but it was also good to make new friends… with both the other kids and the camp counselors.

When I was freshman in college I ended up running into a former camp counselor while job shadowing.  It was fun to catch up and talk about the good times we had at camp.

He reminded me of an unfortunate “accident” I had the last year I attended camp. We were touring all the different areas of the camp grounds including where they slept in tents and really “roughed it”.

It was getting dark and I was at the back of the line and didn’t hear the instruction to stay to the right.

So I ended up stepping into one of the primitive dug out latrines! Fortunately it hadn’t been used too many times but one of my shoes and pant legs got a little “dirty”.

No worries. I wasn’t injured just a little embarrassed.  I got cleaned up and everything got  washed.

The good thing is that story stayed at Church camp (until now) so I wasn’t forever branded with a nickname like Stinky Foot!

Did you ever go to Church camp? What’s your favorite memory?

A lot of parents pack up their troubles and send them off to summer camp. - Raymond Duncan Click To Tweet
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Memory Monday – The Ski Trip

I thought I’d try something new this week and share a memory of mine.  My hope is that it not only gives you a little entertainment and insight into my life… but also that it helps you recall a fond memory of your own.

I was reminded of this memory recently by a cousin of mine.  We were sitting around talking.  I’m not sure how the conversation got there but my cousin said, “You remember our ski trip?”

It immediately made me smile and another one of my cousins laugh. He had been on the trip too.  The trip had several memorable moments.

To set the story… it was me and two of my cousins.  We were all in high school, within a couple years in age of each other, and ready for fun.

Chestnut Mountain Resort in Galena, Illinois was our destination.  It was 3 hours or so away.  The plan was to get up early, spend the day skiing, and then head home.  A quick day trip.

The trip there and the day skiing were pretty uneventful, but fun. Most of the memories came late in the day.

We got separated and my younger cousin and I couldn’t find my older cousin.  Turns out he crashed, tweaked his knee, and had to get a ride back to the top from the ski patrol.

He wasn’t hurt bad enough to need medical attention but enough to be done for the day.  That was fine.  It had been a long day and we were all tired so we piled back in my car and headed home.

We were laughing, recalling funny stories from the day, and singing along to the radio.  It was the time of our lives until we looked up and saw the “Welcome to Wisconsin” sign!  I think we all yelled, “Wisconsin?” at the the same time.

You see, we had no intention of going to Wisconsin.  We didn’t need to. The most direct way home was straight from Illinois to Iowa.  So we pulled over and got the map out of the glove box.

We missed our turn but weren’t to far off track.  Only 10 miles or so. Before you know it we had made it back across the Mississippi and to Dubuque.  We were hungry. Stopping for pizza was the unanimous vote.

Again, we had fun laughing and telling stories while we ate.  We were laughing all the way to the car but stopped when we realized the keys were locked in the car.

Yep.  Earlier, in order to get the map out of the locked glove box, I pulled the keys out of the ignition and handed them to the shotgun rider.

The keys never made it back to the ignition and in my tired and hungry state I forgot to grab them.

This is before cellphones so back inside the pizza place we went to make a  call for help.  The cops came and got us into my car and we were on our way again.

More laughing, joking, singing, and before we knew it, we were home.  It was quite a trip.  Even with all the mishaps I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Ever have a trip were it seemed like a comedy of errors?

Memory is the diary we all carry about with us. - Oscar Wilde Click To Tweet
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