Southern Comfort………Not the Whiskey!
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My dad was a second-shift supervisor for a large textile company in our town. That meant when he was home, I was at school, and when I was home, he was at work. I had a wonderful dad — he'll have his share of future stories — but during this time in my life, I spent most of it with my Grandpa.
To me, he was a big man. I was around six, so that's understandable. He was actually about 5'5" and around 150 pounds, but like I said — to me, he was big.
Every Saturday night, my sister (who is older than me — sorry, Sis), my cousin, and I would do our very best to spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa's. After dinner, the night went like clockwork: 7pm The Lawrence Welk Show, 8pm The Wonderful World of Disney, 9pm The Mary Tyler Moore Show, 9:30 The Bob Newhart Show, and 10pm The Carol Burnett Show. Every Saturday, without fail.
Oh, and don't forget the popcorn — popped in an old frying pan with LARD, rendered just like we render our tallow for our soap. But more than anything, we just wanted to be with them.
My first memory of Grandpa goes back to when I was about three. He always had a five o'clock shadow — he'd shave in the morning, and if they had somewhere to be in the evening, he'd have to shave again. He always wore Aqua Velva aftershave. He also chewed Cannonball plug tobacco. If you're not familiar, plug tobacco wasn't soft like today's — it was rather hard — and he always kept it tucked in his right cheek.
My fondest memory is crawling into his lap and falling asleep with my head on his shoulder, feeling the rough stubble of his jaw, the bulge of that plug in his cheek, and breathing in the sweet smell of tobacco and Aqua Velva. What peaceful sleep that was. I'd give anything to feel that again.
When I developed the scent for our Smoky Barn Soap, I did everything in my power to duplicate that smell.
Now, Grandma's superpower was her cooking. That woman could cook. I've been told I can hold my own in the kitchen, but I don't deserve to even be in the same room with that lady. If she cooked it, I ate it — no questions asked, no matter what it was.
But of all her dishes, my absolute favorite — and I'm going to let you in on this — was Ham Bone and Dumplings. Y'all can keep that chicken stuff. When you've cut all the meat you can off a country ham (home cured, of course), there are still pieces left on the bone. She'd cook that bone for hours until every last bit of meat fell off, then make a rich broth from it. Then she'd roll out the dumplings right on a red and white checkered tablecloth kept just for that purpose, and cook them until they were absolutely perfect. Mmm, mmm.
Now, I said I can cook — and I've made those dumplings for Gigi and my kids my whole life. They were good. But they never came close to Grandma's. Not even once.
I know this story isn't like the others about me getting into trouble, but sometimes we need to stop and remember the simple comforts of life. And trust me — there are plenty more escapade stories coming. If you haven't figured it out by now, I set quite a pattern. 😄
Those Saturday nights with Grandma and Grandpa are exactly why we do what we do at Big PaPaw Soap Company — bringing back the simple, honest things in life. If Grandpa's memory inspired our Smoky Barn Tallow Soap, maybe it'll become one of your favorites too.
A new story drops every Saturday night at midnight. Come back and sit a spell. 🪑