Life Under Pines

PL

Martha Stewart + Norm Abram = Me

By Sundi McLaughlin

The year was 1999, DIY and cooking shows were just becoming a part of popular culture and I, a newlywed, absolutely loved watching these shows offering simple fixes and projects to improve our modest home. The world was right on the cusp of having the internet readily available in homes, so the TV was a great way to learn new recipes or turn something I found for 10 bucks into something that looked pretty dang nice. To say we were on a budget is an understatement of gargantuan proportions. My husband and I were both deputies at a sheriff’s department in Florida and we were each making about $16,000 annually. We were graduates of law enforcement academies (top in my class, thank you very much) and our job more often than not was wrestling with our fellow citizens high on every drug imaginable and being screamed and spit at more times than I care to remember. So when I got home from my low paying, stressful job and removed that drab olive green polyester uniform, I really liked to imagine myself as a Martha Stewart meets Norm Abram.

I grew up with a dad who was a teacher but always worked two or three jobs, so as a child my brother and I learned how to hang drywall, paint siding, roof a house, tile a bathroom and everything else under the sun. My brother and I would make up games to occupy our time and as much as we hated the work I know looking back it informed my work ethic, my ability to push myself beyond what I thought I was capable of, as well as learning the feeling of satisfaction for a job well done. So by the time I was married, I was ready to strip and refinish furniture, reupholster old chairs and paint every room.

My dad agreed to help me strip an old antique phone table which was painted an off-putting ’80s mauve. The painstaking work was in the end rewarding as we sanded and scraped until we uncovered a beautiful Maple finish. My Dad wasn’t much of a talker but working in the silence with him is a lovely memory and that piece is still in my home all these years later, standing as a reminder of the leaner days which ended up being so very rich.

As for cooking and baking, my mom was very good about teaching me the basics growing up, but the new cooking shows with their more complex recipes were a challenge I enjoyed. Many of the recipes, however, called for fancy equipment like a stand mixer, digital scales/thermometer or a food processor, which we did not have the money for.

But the dream of one day owning a fancy KitchenAid mixer was real. I handwhisked chocolate soufflés and baked them in halved coconuts, made homemade marshmallows (don’t ask), hand-whipped cream and made my own pita bread, among other tasty treats. Popeye arms were a real possibility!

As luck would have it, a few years into my marriage I was at my mother-in-law’s house helping out in the kitchen when I opened a bottom cupboard and all the way back in the recesses of the cabinet was what looked like a KitchenAid mixer! I asked Jean about it and she said very casually, “That old thing? We got that as newlyweds. KitchenAid gave you a mixer with the purchase of the fridge.” She guessed she probably had it since 1976 or so. I stood there dumbstruck. “It looks brand new! Why have I never seen this before?” She explained she had forgotten about it and as she wasn’t much of a baker, she rarely used it. She must have seen the coveting glint in my eye because she offered it to me on the spot. I refused her, of course, as it was valuable and I didn’t want to be a greedy beggar, but she insisted and I took it on the condition that if she ever changed her mind and wanted it back it was hers for the taking.

The extremely heavy almond-colored KitchenAid was lovingly heaved and strapped into the passenger’s seat like a newborn babe and It’s funny how some inanimate objects come to have such strong meaning. A way to mark time; a reminder of people, holidays or special events, and stand as a memory of the kindness.

once home I proudly displayed it on my kitchen counter for the world to see. My baking kicked into overtime. I would bring in baked goods for my coworkers, make elaborate cakes and breads, and imagine myself hosting my own baking show. We eventually joined the Army and moved a bit and that 50-pound mixing queen moved with us. She became a friendly companion in the kitchen as we mixed up old favorites and experimented with the new. A little bit of a constant in an ever-changing world.

Now all of these years later she has remained a whirling dervish while I have slowed down considerably. She has never failed me, not once. I know she can’t live forever but after 46 years she is still as reliable as the day I seat-belted and drove her home so many years ago. It makes me think of that old quote, “They don’t make ‘em like they used to.” In the case of my mixer and table, I would have to agree.

It’s funny how some inanimate objects come to have such strong meaning. A way to mark time; a reminder of people, holidays or special events, and stand as a memory of the kindness. My dad showed by spending his evenings with me refinishing the furniture and the generosity of my new mother-in-law offering up her KitchenAid mixer, which has given me over 20 years of joy. We never know what our kindnesses will do for the recipient. For me the ripple effect has always been greater than the giver could possibly know. As a gift shop owner I see people come in to shop every day and search for the perfect gift for their friends and family, reminding me that goodness, kindness and generosity are all around us—but especially right here Under the Pines …. PL

Sundi McLaughlin is a proud military wife and small-business owner of Mockingbird on Broad in Southern Pines.

The Limerick

By Greg Girard

The limerick packs laughs anatomical Into space that is quite economical. But the good ones I’ve seen So seldom are clean And the clean ones so seldom are comical. - Anon

Historians aren’t entirely sure when the limerick poem form was introduced, but most point to the Middle Ages in France. There is written evidence from the 11th century that follows the limerick form of five lines, with the first, second and fifth lines rhyming in a three-beat measure and the second and fourth lines rhyming in a two-beat measure.

At some point the poetic form made its way across the Channel to where, 500 years later, men were singing the form in pubs and William Shakespeare was using it as drinking songs in The Tempest and Othello.

It wasn’t until the 1700s that the limerick was brought to Ireland by Irish soldiers returning from war. The limerick form then took two diametric paths to poetic fame. In 1776, the Mother Goose Melodies was published and used the limerick form for many iconic poems, including Hickory, dickory, dock and It’s raining, it’s pouring. The second track emerged in Irish pubs, where poets and others would conduct poetry competitions in limerick form over pints of beer. These poems tended to veer into slightly more bawdy topics than Mother Goose, particularly as the night went on. The poetry challenges were especially popular in the city of Limerick, which is the source of its name. There is a plaque at the White House pub in Limerick that reads:

The Limerick is furtive and mean; you must keep her in close quarantine, or she sneaks up to the slums and promptly becomes disorderly drunk and obscene

The popularity of limerick poems took off in 1846, when Edward Lear published A Book of Nonsense that contained more than 100 limericks. Soon magazines, like Punch, were having limerick contests with cash rewards for the winners. Subsequently, virtually every known 19th-century writer wrote limericks, from Alfred, Lord Tennyson and Rudyard Kipling to Mark Twain and Robert Louis Stevenson.

While Lear did not invent the limerick, he is forever linked with the form. Limerick Day, which is not on St. Patrick’s Day as many may assume, is celebrated on May 12, Lear’s birthday.

One critic of the limerick wrote, “It is the vehicle of cultivated, unrepressed sexual humor in the English language.” Indeed, the limerick poetic form has embraced sex like no other, with most not suitable for printing in this fine local magazine. To offer one on the tamer side, Algernon Charles Swinburne, a 19th-century English poet who was known to push literary boundaries, wrote:

There was a young lady of Norway Who hung by her toes in a doorway. She said to her beau ‘Just look at me Joe, I think I’ve discovered one more way.’

But the limerick form has also been used to write on a wide variety of topics, including philosophy, math and religion. Oliver Wendell Holmes wrote:

God’s plan made a hopeful beginning. But man spoiled his chances by sinning. We trust that the story Will end in God’s glory, But at present the other side’s winning.

No matter the topic, limericks are intended to give the reader or listener a smile. Here are few more to enjoy as we celebrate St. Patrick’s Day:

There was an old drunkard of Devon, Who died and ascended to Heaven; But he cried: 'This is HadesThere are no naughty ladies, And the pubs are all shut by eleven.

- Ron Rubin, jazz musician

I’d rather have Fingers than Toes, I’d rather have Ears than a Nose. And as for my Hair, I’m glad it’s all there, I’ll be awfully sad, when it goes.

- Anon A dozen, a gross, and a score Plus three times the square root of four Divided by seven Plus five times eleven Is nine squared and not a bit more.

- Leigh Mercer, mathematician

Our novels get longa and longa Their language gets stronga and stronga There’s much to be said For a life that is led In illiterate places like Bonga.

- H.G. Wells

You’ve conquered the aging disease That brings lesser men to their knees You’re a vigorous man And you’ve proved you still can Blow your candles with only one wheeze.

- Anon

A tutor who tooted the flute, Tried to teach two tooters to toot, Said the two to the tutor, "Is it harder to toot, or To tutor two tooters to toot?"

- Carolyn Wells PL