Oh wow!  How can I be so lucky sometimes to remember the right things to say—and, at the right time? I’m referring to my recent reference to a subject matter commonly viewed as ‘dear to the heart’ of many people: FOOD! In particular, a tummy-pleasing item that is still in existence: buttermilk!

YES, buttermilk—it’s not as common as coffee, tea, juice, soda pops, and water, of course, but yes, milk, not flavored almond or vanilla or something else, but unique in its own way; tart to some people’s taste, and of the sour cream, yogurt and chip dip categories.

The response to my subject matter of buttermilk was not exceedingly strong but assuredly appreciated. I extend my thank you for the many kindred words; and one family’s heritage buttermilk coffeecake recipe received.

Now, how about a few words detailing the clothing worn during the last century and how it has changed; of course, not just in a particular widely negative or positive way, but relative to the dictated needs of accommodating expectations?

Back in the last century, when I was a preteen-moving towards teenage years, there was a war in progress known as the Second World War. I had a lot of family members enrolled in both the United States and Canada military services. My mother was Canadian in her childhood days and my father was a WWI veteran.

So, when there came a time for copies of military-style clothing to be offered for children of my age range, I wanted to show my support. Our well-studied catalogs were filled with pictures of military styles to meet the early 1940 child’s needs. 

I was disappointed that we could not afford any of them, so I was thrilled when shortly before Christmas, one year, a full set of women’s style khaki army clothing, including the peaked cap, was presented to me by my mother. She had secretly bought material and sewn a complete outfit for me. The disappointing part for me was it didn’t solicit the recognition I had expected, and I soon outgrew the clothing.

Later, as I moved on into the teen years, there was a particular dress at Christmas time, red of course, I longed for. I think my mother remembered the uniform clothing disappointment and the red dress never appeared. I still remember how pretty the dress looked; it even went on sale after Christmas.

Uh, no, I didn’t get it. Maybe someday I’ll get one like it. I hear it’s acceptable for old women to wear red. Maybe I will look for one -- when I get a little more age on me.