OLD-FASHIONED DESSERTS

Last year I joined a social, philanthropic women's organization that holds regular afternoon meetings. As with most organizations of that sort, they have no "younger" members. Yes, most of these ladies are old enough to be my mother, though my mother was old enough to be their mother. In fact, my membership was sponsored by my oldest sister, Harriet, who is 19 years older than I. Discussing the difference in our ages makes me think of the time Harriet and I went to the nursing home to explore options for our mother's care. In round figures, at that time I was 45, Harriet was 65, and Mother was 85. Harriet was well into presenting the issues at hand to the nurse on duty when the nurse stopped her.

"Just a minute," she said. "Are you her sister?"

With a look of resigned dismay, Harriet said, "No, she is my mother. The problem is Kathy here!" And of course, she explained that she was mother's eldest daughter while I was the youngest.

Anyway, I digress. At this afternoon meeting, the members take turns serving dessert, and the set-up reminds me of my mother's sewing club in the 1950s. The hostess sets out her best linen, china, and silver, including a silver tea service if she has one. A co-hostess brings a rich dessert. And the table includes several varieties of candy and nuts. In our casual world, we don't often see this emphasis on formal hospitality. And these ladies can eat me under the table when it comes to sugar.

At today's meeting, a member presented a program about her great-grandmother and grandmother who were inspirational to her. It seemed so timely to me since I have just been discussing the influence that previous generations have had on my life. And she had with her the housekeeping manual that belonged to one of her grandmothers – The People's Home Library, R. C. Barnham Co. (publisher), 1910. The book included much practical information for the self-sufficient farm family, including medical and veterinary advice. KW