Waffles and Chickens

This morning I made these for breakfast per M's request.

I know this photo would be much prettier with a pat of melting butter and rivulets of syrup running off the waffle but this and it's compatriots were waiting for transportation down the Hill to J's place for breakfast.  I didn't think it would be much fun to get a delivery of soggy waffles.  So just imagine the butter and syrup.

I used this to make the wafflles. 

My Mother's Waffle Maker.  It made me smile and filled me with memories of her.

I'm pretty sure she probably didn't use it real often.  Because she liked pancakes better.  But my Pop liked waffles so I'm sure that's why she bought it and then used it a few times.  It may have made the trip from Texas to Illinois when they retired from their retirement to move back home so they could be close to Auntie K and the rest of my family in Illinois.  A wise move.  

Or Mother's Waffle Maker may have been bought at a rummage sale that Auntie K took them to after that move, even though Auntie K doesn't really like rummage sales.  K surrounded them in their last years with the same wonderful type of love that they surrounded us with all our growing up years.  No, all our lives.  Because we still have it.  A love like that does not die with the body but lives on within our hearts and fills the very air that surrounds us.  It is a very real presence in my life and is the foundation for much of what I am.  

As I made the waffles, sitting next to Mother's Waffle Maker was my Chicken Paper Towel Holder.  It was Mother's too.  

Before she left Texas for Illinois this last time, she decided she wanted a new kitchen in her East Texas house.  She was already in her 70s but her children and grandchildren pitched in together and helped her get that kitchen.  A kitchen with pale yellow cabinets, red countertops and Chickens.  Lots of Chickens.

When the kitchen was nearly finished, Mother, K, my Gorgeous GodDaughter (K's daughter), My Girl, my then baby GrandGirlie#1 and I went shopping and bought her Chickens. Lots of Chickens. 

 Now, K doesn't really like Chickens either, but she bought them with abandon.  Because Mother wanted chickens and that is just the way K is.  We had so much fun.  Every Chicken that was purchased was done so with K smiling and muttering about Stupid Chickens, while Mother giggled and the rest of us laughed and egged her on.  And then we'd be off on the hunt to find another Chicken.  

Shortly after her move back to Illinois, Mother decided the Chickens had been around long enough and packed them up. But she couldn't get rid of them.  So, the next time I was visiting my IL home I picked out some of my favorite Chickens and brought them back to my AL home.  The Chicken Paper Towel Holder was one of them and the Angry Boy Chicken Cookie Jar was another.  I didn't bring them home because I love Chickens but because I look at them and remember that day with 4 generations of women in my family laughing and loving together.  And hunting for Chickens.  Lots of Chickens.  They will stay in my house somewhere, so that with one glance, I can be with K and My Girls at that moment.  And with my Mother.

Mother?  Even though a year has passed, I still miss you every day.  But I think I may give a few of your chickens a coat of black paint.