Mimi's Plum Cake

Since I have not posted a recipe lately, here is a good one. It is an easy, moist cake that my late mother-in-law Sarah (aka: Mimi) made often. Mimi was also known as "The Best Chicken Fryer in the State of Alabama" so that should tell you something. This recipe will be in my cookbook which will, hopefully, be available the end of 2010. Enjoy!!!

Mimi's Plum Cake

2 Cups self-rising flour
2 Cups sugar
3 eggs, beaten
1 Cup oil
1 T. cinnamon
1 T. vanilla
2 jars of baby food plums (yes, baby food!) ***
1 Cup chopped pecans

Mix flour, sugar and cinnamon in large mixing bowl. Add eggs and oil and mix well. Add vanilla, plums and nuts. Mix well and pour into a 8 X 8 greased square pan. Bake at 325 degrees for about an hour. Check for doneness. Poke holes all over the top of the cake with a toothpick.

*** My mom could not find baby food plums but did find baby food apples and plums. She said it turned out yummy.

Glaze:

1 Cup powdered sugar
1/4 Cup red wine

Blend until smooth. Pour over hot cake.

So What is Wrong with Pink Garage Doors?

The lady at the paint store asked my husband if he would like the primer paint tinted. He said "Sure!" He was reading the latest edition of "Cattle Gazette" or something at the time and really wasn't paying a lot of attention to what she was saying.



When he did look at the paint, it was a shade lighter than Pepto "the pink stuff" Bismol. Yummy!

We had out of town friends come over for a cookout last night. They said they had driven by the house earlier and wondered why we were painting the garage doors pink. They then decided it was the primer.

So, all three garage doors were bubble gum pink for a time. Two are now forest green. One still remains a glow-in-the-dark pink. It started raining and may rain all weekend. On Monday, I may get to paint the pink door green to match the others. I think it bothers me more than it does my husband. He seems to be confident enough in his masculinity, that the pink door doesn't bother him, at least for a couple more days.

Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas anymore!

My husband picked me up at the Raleigh-Durham, N.C. airport, gave me a kiss and a hug and and whisked me back to Virginia. We played "catch-up" on the nearly two hour drive home. Yes, the cows were doing well and loving the new grass and clover. The renovation on the bathroom was just about complete ( I had wallpapered the bathroom before I left for Wichita and vowed never to do that again, considering my many "Lucy and Ethel" moments with 105" long strips of wallpaper coming down on my head.) It does look beautiful and if I can ever find a new shower curtain and wall hangings, our work will be complete. But I am getting off the track.

Spring had arrived in Virginia while I was in Kansas. The dogwood and cherry blossoms were in bloom and azaleas in bud. The grass turned green almost overnight and the trees were quickly unfolding green lush leaves. Spring in Virginia is like the sweet melody of a song. "Carry me back to old Virginny" ran through my mind, which is just what my husband did.

The view from our back deck is like heaven to me (see picture). Trees, pasture and often a cow or two as far as the eye can see. It is a tranquil retreat for me at the beginning and end of the day. In between is a different story. Living on a farm is work. Plain and simple- it is hard work. In the four years that Andy and I have been married, we have built a barn, put in miles of fencing (he more than "us"), planted trees, started a small herd of Black Angus cattle, and from our own trees, picked cherries and peaches, that I preserved in jars. We have sweated, working side by side to make this property beautiful. The amount of hours that Andy has worked grading road, seeding and fertilizing, fencing and plowing are many. For someone who is retired, there really isn't much rest. He has glaucoma which limits what he can do, but somehow he manages to get the job done. He has help and he has me, although, being a city girl, there are some things I struggle with. But learning to be a farmer has been fulfilling and at the end of the day, when we survey our little farm, it it satisfying to see what we have accomplished.

Now we are painting the house. It is a cedar house with 36 windows and a half dozen doors. The colors are very "earthy." A terra cotta called California Rustic for the house, cream for the windows and around the doors and forest green for the doors. It is a big job, again, we have help but I am in charge of the first floor windows and doors and it is not very much fun. Again, it is the satisfaction of the end result I look forward to. When I hang new wreaths on the front doors and install the new planters full of flowers on the front porch I will take and post a picture.

So, I came home to Ol' Virginia, green with spring and the promise of a long hot summer ahead. With cookouts, bluegrass concerts, camping trips and lots of work to look forward to, I am so glad to be home. In the following posts, I will talk about Virginia, the South and what being "Southern" means to me. So, Toto, we are not in Kansas anymore, but that is OK because the yellow brick road will always lead back there.

Leaving OZ

Now as I leave Kansas and travel home to Virginia, I know that the most important thing I am leaving is family. It was a wonderful time with Mom, Dad, Sister, brother-in-law and 16 year old granddaughter who live in Wichita. I was joined by my two sons and 7 year old grandson from the East coast and my brother from the West coast. We talked, laughed, fished, ate too much and listened to family history. We love each other and that is what is important no matter where we live or where we travel. I will miss Kansas and the people I leave there. Kansas is part of me, it is where I grew up and the most comfortable place I know. It is home and, as Dorothy said, there is no place like home.

A Very Unusual Night

The following story was written while I was at WSU then rewritten a couple of years ago as an article in the local newspaper. The story is about a "spook light" in an old farmhouse in Kansas. I witnessed another such phenomenon while going to school in Pittsburg, Kansas. That one is well documented and called The Hornet or Joplin light. If you Goggle "Spook Light", you will pull up many interesting articles and you may, Dear Readers, become a believer.

A Very Unusual Night

If the words "spook light" evoke a "yeah right!" reaction, you probably won't believe what I am about to tell you. If, on the other hand, you have an open mind, then maybe you WILL believe my account of the Potwin, Kansas spook light.

I was fifteen when I first heard of the light in an old abandoned farmhouse in Potwin, Kansas. My friend, Marti, was sixteen and able to drive. Her car was a two-toned green 1953 Plymouth, appropriately nicknamed "The Little Rattler." It was a cranky old hand-me-down, semi-reliable clunker, whose engine guzzled a can of oil every hour or two. We both had an eleven o'clock curfew, and, when we pulled into the drive at the old farmhouse, it was barely dusk. We had hours, if necessary, to sit and wait for SOMETHING to happen. Fortified with a stockpile of sodas and candy bars, we took to our post, ready to be scared out of our wits.

There were many stories of the Kansas spook light but the recurring theme was that a mysterious light would appear after dark in the house and barn. No one knew what cause the light but some speculated that it was caused by head lights from the nearby highway refracted up by water vapors. Other ideas were: ball lightening, swamp gas or UFOs. Articles had been written by journalists and experts in natural phenomenon. It seemed that everyone had an opinion about the unusual sightings.

So, with sodas in hand, we waited for the light show to begin. Seven o'clock came and nothing happened. Eight o'clock rolled around and all was quiet. It was a dark and moonless night. We locked the doors. By nine o'clock we had eaten all the candy and decided that a hamburger and french fries would sure taste good. In other words, there was nothing going on at the farmhouse and we were getting hungry and bored. One of us suggested that we give up and go back to town.

All at once, a light in one of the upstairs windows caught our attention. It stayed on for a few minutes, went out, then reappeared in another window. It was a dim glowing light. Downstairs, a light came on and then dimmed. There was a glow in the barn across the road, on and then off, then back to the house. An upstairs window was, again, illuminated, and then another, then another window downstairs. The sequence was becoming faster, one place to another, the house to the barn, back to the house with lights blinking off and on in room after room. Then the light went out and the night sky cast a black shadow over the house. It was very quiet inside the car. We were holding our breath and sat watching and waiting.

After a few minutes we finally took a breath and decided that the light was gone and we should be heading home. Before we had a chance to start the car, the light appeared again. It seemed to be between the house and the barn. It looked large and menacing. It was coming down the road. It was coming toward the car and toward us!

"Get out of here!" I yelled as Marti turned the key in the ignition.

Just like in a bad horror movie, the car creaked and groaned, then.... the engine died!

"Hurry! Start the car!" I cried, and as Marti tried the key again, I looked out the back window and saw a ball of light suspended in mid air. No person or wire was supporting it. There was no beam. This weird spook light hung there and then moved forward. It was coming after us.

The car engine came on with a roar and , as we jerked out of the drive and onto the road, we were screaming. I watched as the gleaming round ball moved ever closer to the car. Marti pushed the gas pedal to the floor. The little car squealed away and we were still shrieking as the ball of light disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Years later, in college English 101 class, I wrote about the spook light. The assignment was to describe a true incident in my life. The teacher gave me an A minus, noting that if the assignment was supposed to be fiction, I would have received an A. She appreciated by "vivid imagination" but I would still be marked down for not following instructions. It hurt my feelings a little that she didn't believe me.

I called Marti the other day and told her that I was writing about the spook light for the newspaper. We laughed about her beat up old car, then recalled what happened at the farmhouse and how frightened we were that night.

"Good luck with your story. You know they won't believe you!" She said as we hung up.

Well...... did you?

Delano

Back in the 1800s when Wichita was a cow town on the Chisholm Trail, Delano was the "Rowdy" side of town. Gunfights, drunken brawls, prostitution and gambling were kept out of Wichita and in the "suburb" of Delano. For a very interesting and funny (The Running of the Doves) history of Delano, check out www.historicdelano.com/history.

These days, Delano is a very busy community full of art galleries, shops, restaurants and families, a far cry from its raunchy past. The Delano Clock Tower, pictured, is in a roundabout intersection and it truly a work of art. The four bas-relief art panels depict Delano in its wild west heyday. The art work was done by Kansas artist, Kiv Yankey.

Wichita High School North

My Mother went to North High School when there were only two high schools in Wichita. It is a lovely old school and a finalist in the 8 wonders of Kansas Art contest.

In 1928 fifteen acres were purchased and North High was started. The architecture is modern American style and native Kansas artist Bruce Moore designed the colorful full size figures that

decorate the school, tower and bridge next to the school. The designs depict frontier days with an Indian Chief prominently displayed at each corner of the entrance and an Indian scout on the tower. Other designs include a buffalo head, eagle, bow and arrow, sunflower, and Indian tepee.

The Castle Inn Riverside

The historic Campbell Castle was built in 1888 by Col. Burton Harvey Campbell, a prominent Wichita businessman. Campbell funded many downtown buildings and a major hospital in Wichita. The house was designed as a Scottish Castle and located by the Little Arkansas River.

The castle was sold to the Crum family in 1960 and years later, sold to Dr. Terry and Paula Lowry who have restored it to its former glory. I toured the castle a few years before the Lowrys purchased it and turned it into an Inn. While it was in a state of disrepair at the time, it was plain to see that the bones of the castle were marvelous. The 275 year old staircase was imported from London. There are inlaid wooden floors, elegant carved fretwork and a beautiful 700 year old Grecian fireplace. The guestrooms are the ultimate in luxury. If you want to learn more about The Castle Inn Riverside, go to: www.castleinnriverside.com/

The Keeper of the Plains

This awesome 44 foot sculpture was designed by well known Native American artist Blackbear Bosin. The Keeper of the Plains was Bosins gift to the city of Wichita in 1974. It was placed at the confluence of the Little and Big Arkansas Rivers. This spot was considered a sacred site by many Native Americans, including the Wichita tribe. A ring of fire was recently added when the sculpture was placed on a 30 foot pedestal.

Nightmare!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Since I am reminscing about growing up in Wichita, when I was a kid, there was a wonderful amusement park called Joyland. This story took place long ago and while most of it is true, I confess to have taken a wee bit of artistic license. I have added a little dialog that, well, COULD have been said. At 63 years old, my memory fails me quite often, but this is how I remember: "Nightmare." I hope you enjoy!

Nightmare

Everything about Joyland was exciting. A big arrow on the neon sign pointed the way to the park and boasted of the giant roller coaster. My family bought tickets at the booth and crossed a a bridge to the entrance of the amusement park. On the right side of the bridge you could see the sparkling water of the large swimming pool. The pool was the site of many lazy summer days in the sun and moonlight swim parties sponsored by the local rock and roll radio station, KLEO. As we entered the park, the first thing we saw was the mammoth Wurlitzer Military Band pipe organ. It was played by an automated clown named Louie. The music was loud, adding to the carnival atmosphere. The smell of popcorn and cotton candy scented the summer air.

My sister, cousins and I were eager to ride the carousel, which to us, was a thing of beauty with its painted horses and pretty music. We also loved the ferris wheel, bumper cars and Tilt-a-Whirl. But the star of the show was the roller coaster. It was painted bright white and rose 80 feet high. Built in 1949 by the Philadelphia Toboggan Co., the roller coaster was was a remarkable wooden marvel, and one of only 44 original coasters of its kind in the world. We didn't know or care about all that, to us it was the best, and scariest ride in the world. The coaster was appropriately named "Nightmare."

And it WAS scary. The cars flew at 50 miles per hour around a 26 hundred foot track with twists and death defying maneuvers. This ride was not for the faint of heart. The sign at the top of the first hill read "Last Warning: Do Not Stand Up, Sit Down." Some brave souls raised their arms above their heads but most hands were frozen to the lap bar. Passengers screamed their lungs out. The ride only lasted a few minutes, but the thrill of danger made many get back on and ride again.

Mother, my little brother, Gregg, and Aunt Carol stayed in the station to watch. Dad, my little sister Rhonda, Uncle Bucky and his young son Mike, piled into the first two cars. The last car on the train was the scariest because it seemed to leave the track as it rounded curves and plunged down hills. My cousin Ronnie and I were "older", thirteen and eleven. We ran to the last car.

Nightmare pulled out of the station and slowly dipped down a small hill, went around a curve and started up the first steep hill. At this point the cogs engaged in the chain drive system. There was a big jolt and a "click, click, click." It was almost time to scream. We held our breath. As we approached the big sign, we gripped the bar tightly and prepared to be terrified. As the train dove down the first drop of 76 feet, we hung on for dear life, screaming all the way down. At the bottom of the hill, the cars burst up a short incline and whipped around a curve. We felt like we were flying and our stomachs were feeling queasy. We didn't know it at the time but this is where the trouble started.

Uncle Bucky swallowed his cigar.

The remaining twists and turns were quick and fast As we pulled into the station, Dad was slapping a choking Uncle Bucky on the back. At some point the stub of a cigar flew out of Uncle Bucky's mouth. He was coughing and turning a funny shade of green. Dad had a big, booming bariton voice and announced to the world that Nightmare had almost killed his brother-in-law. Dad was laughing so hard that everyone, even strangers, started laughing. Our trip to Joyland was cut short that day and as we drove home, with Uncle Bucky recovering in the back seat, Dad said "It sure is a good thing that cigar wasn't burning!"

I never thought of Joyland again without remembering the day Uncle Bucky swallowed his cigar. And, if I listen very closely, I can almost hear my Dad's big laugh roaring all the way home.

Dog and Shake

Another "have to go to place" my brother, sister and I visit in Wichita is "Dog and Shake." They serve hamburgers also, but the dog is the best.

In 1948, the Adamsons opened a hamburger joint called "Neal's Burger Bar". A second location followed in 1956. In 1962 they purchased "Sizzlin' Dog" and changed the name to "Dog and Shake." There are 5 locations still serving the famous hot dog with mustard, sweet pickle relish, onion and sprinkled with celery salt. The celery salt is the secret! The bun is actually a U shaped slice of bread, butter toasted. Yum. I wish I had one right now. They make good french fries and a chocolate malt which is almost as good as Nu-Way.

All the Dog and Shake buildings are different but have the same distictive red roof and yellow and red 1950's style sign. Love the sign.

Putt Putt to the Pizza Hut

In my last post, There is No Place Like Home, I talked about the Nu-Way Cafe. In talking to a friend in Florida, it seems that the Big Bun at Oliver and Central also had a loose meat sandwich much like Nu-Way. I never knew that Big Bun was also a teen hangout and very popular. My hangouts were Sandys and Griffs for burgers. Dragging Douglas on Friday nights always included burgers and fries. We could drive hours on 50 cents worth of gas.

There have been many famous companies founded in Wichita: White Castle, Coleman, Cessna, Beech, Lear Jet and Mentholatum to name a few. Perhaps the most well known company born in Wichita would be Pizza Hut.

In 1958 two brothers, Frank and Dan Carney borrowed $600 from their Mother, bought some second hand equipment and opened the first Pizza Hut. The rest is history. The first TV commercial for Pizza Hut aired in 1965. The catchy theme song went something like this: "Putt Putt to the Pizza Hut......." I am singing it right now and luckily no one can hear me. As for the name, one account is that the boys wanted the word "pizza" in the title and there was only room for 9 letters on the sign. Someone thought the tiny original building looked like a hut and there you go!

Pizza Hut pizza was a must at parties and slumber parties when I was in high school in the early 1960s. We loved it hot and even cold for breakfast! My friends and I hung out at the Pizza Hut by the University because the cutest boys worked there. The original building, shown above, has been moved to the Wichita State University campus.

There Is No Place Like Home

As I said in "Home Sweet Home," I grew up in Wichita, Kansas, lived there until age 22, then moved to the Deep South. My mother and sister (and their husbands) still live in Wichita. After just returning from there, I can tell you- there is no place like home, in both Kansas and here in Virginia.

While in Wichita, as always, there are the traditional places where my family loves to eat. One stop on every trip is The Nu-Way Cafe. The cafe was opened on July 1, 1930 and boasts the famous Nu-Way Sandwich. Simply called a "Nu-Way," it is a loose meat sandwich on a bun. It is messy but wonderful. Served with homemade curley fries and crunchy golden brown onion rings, we devour every morsel. Nu-Way makes their own special root beer and a root beer float or chocolate malt fills out the meal nicely, thank you very much! Oh yes, and they have a chili that is legendary around Wichita.

My mother remembers eating at the original Nu-Way at 1416 W. Douglas and even though there are other locations in Wichita, most natives believe the W. Douglas location is THE ONLY location! Mother says that Nu-Way was a popular teen hangout when she was in high school. A carhop would take the order and promptly bring out a tray of goodies. This was fast food of the 30s. The cafe is small inside now and even smaller back then. A U shaped bar with stools is on one side and the other side seats customers at booths and tables.

The Nu-Way recipe is a secret but the local newspaper, The Wichita Eagle, published a recipe in the 1990s after many requests. See below. I don't know if this is THE recipe and I haven't tried it yet, but if anyone does, please write me @ writingonarainbow@gmail.com and tell me how it tastes.

Homemade Nu-Ways

1 lb. lean ground beef
2 t. instant beef bouillion

3 t. water

salt and pepper

1 small onion, finely chopped

In a skillet, saute onion and ground beef over low heat until redness in meat is gone. Drain well. Add bouillion and water and cover. Simmer over low heat until the water has cooked away. Adjust seasoning by adding salt and pepper as desired.

Spoon meat on a bun, with mustard and dill pickles. Add a slice of cheese if desired and enjoy a taste of Wichita!