I have a thing about rhubarb pie.
It’s deep-seeded, to be sure, since I haven’t had a bite of that particular pastry since I was a child. My paternal grandmother made them. She died when I was ten. 
So when the LitForum‘s Writer’s Exercise  for March was to “write a scene in which the emphasis is on the consumption of food. Make use of the senses of taste and smell. Complement those senses by also drawing on sight, feel and mood. The MC  in this scene has stopped whatever he/she has been doing before and is pausing for a moment,” I knew immediately mine would be about rhubarb pie.
I’ve never been a gardener. In fact, I usually tell folks that “I don’t kill plants; I just make ’em wish they were dead.”
So, it’s fitting that, as I plan what flowers I’ll be planting this spring, I’m thinking about Rose, who also wasn’t much of a gardener.
One of the tools in a writer’s arsenal to develop a fictional character is the Character A-Z exercise, where, beginning with the letter A and working your way through to Z, you write from the character’s POV (point of view) about whatever topic comes to mind for the letter at hand. Because, there comes a time when research has to stop and you just have to get into the character’s head to see what makes them tick.
Rose and I are embarking on just such a journey. Care to come along? Continue reading
Rose has a little story to tell us. About Gorgeous George. Get a cup of coffee (or whatever your favorite beverage might be) then sit down and enjoy!
This diary¹ entry intrigued me:
1929 Thursday January 10
Nice day. Roads were drifted full again. LAS met here today. Not very large crowd but not so bad for the roads. Took in over $5. Snow started to blow about 4:30 and had another blizzard all night again. The wind blew just terrible. Francis, Ruth, and Oscar were here and spent the eve. We made ice cream and played cards. Jack Nolte died this noon. Mama is better.
The new year really wreaked havoc on the midwest in 1929. The diary entries for the first two weeks of the year consistently Continue reading
And Rose says “Pancakes.” Or is it Hotcakes?
Seriously. I need to know.
Rose was cooking Harold breakfast, which is a chore for her, given she’s a pretty bad cook, when she was stopped dead in her tracks by a very indecisive writer.
Would Rose say pancakes or hotcakes? Which phrase reads rural Nebraska in 1930?
That was several hours ago. Since then, I’ve been searching the internet for an answer.
Instead, I’ve found out that pancakes have been around since the 15th century, although back then they made them with mincemeat. Ewww!
And, that in addition to pancake or hotcake, there are also flapjacks, flannel cakes, slapjacks, griddle cakes, and johnny cakes.
I even found a delicious recipe for Oatmeal Pancakes here, that I stopped and made. And they were YUMMMM!
But I still don’t know if Rose would say pancakes or hotcakes?
What do you call them? Include where you grew up and I’ll post a map showing the regional preferences.
Geez. That sounds like a macabre title for a mystery.
It’s not; it’s a recipe. But that sounds equally ghoulish… Continue reading
You know the old adage “write what you know”?
I’ve ignored that.
Instead, I’m delving into unknowns: prohibition, jazz music, 1930s farming… Things about which I know nothing. Which means I have to do a lot of research.
Sometimes, it makes me feel like I’ve gotten lost down a rabbit hole.
Like today. Continue reading