For Abby's favorite family recipes, send a long, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Cookbooklet No. 1, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
DEAR ABBY: My wife and I have been reading your column for years and always enjoy it. I would like to share with you my "lady luck" story.
In 1930 I went to a wedding celebration in the neighborhood. During the evening, one of the boys took a pair of sugar cubes and inked dots on them so they looked like dice. He said to another fellow and me, "Let's roll the dice to see who gets to walk Mary home and get a goodnight kiss." Mary agreed with a smile. I was tickled because I was "stuck" on her.
I won the dice game and walked Mary home. Being somewhat nervous I kept talking until she finally said, "Well, are you going to collect your kiss?" I did, and it was wonderful. I asked her to a dance the following weekend and that started our courtship. Remember, Abby, these were Depression years, so our courtship was very modest.
On April 8, 1934, we were married. This year, we celebrated our 62nd anniversary. When our doctor heard how long we've been married, he exclaimed, "That's remarkable. Some people don't live that long!"
Today we have three wonderful children, eight grandchildren and three great-grandchildren. They all adore "Grammy" because they have fond memories of her pampering them with treats such as turtle-shaped pancakes, chocolate-covered cookies, yummy fruit salad, etc.
We're both in our 80s now, but I will never forget the night "lady luck" really smiled on me! -- HANK SHOBAR, LARKSPUR, CALIF.
DEAR HANK: Thanks for the memories that will delight many readers who are old enough to appreciate them.
DEAR ABBY: Recently you told your readers that people don't write letters because they are busier now and communicate in ways that don't take that much time. I take issue with the statement about how busy people are today compared with a few years ago, and I submit this poem from The Bald Eagle, a newsletter of the Lecompton Historical Society of Lecompton, Kan. -- PAT CASTRO, RAMONA, CALIF.
Mama's mama, on a winter's day,
Milked the cows and fed them hay,
Slopped the hogs, saddled the mule,
And got the children off to school.
Did a washing, mopped the floors,
Washed the windows and did some chores,
Cooked a dish of home-dried fruit,
Pressed her husband's Sunday suit.
Swept the parlor, made the bed,
Baked a dozen loaves of bread.
Split some wood and lugged it in,
Enough to fill the kitchen bin,
Cleaned the lamps and put in oil,
Stewed some apples she thought might spoil,
Churned the butter, baked a cake,
Then exclaimed, "For goodness sake!
The calves have got out of the pen!"
Went out and chased them in again.
Gathered the eggs and locked the stable,
Returned to the house and set the table.
Cooked a supper that was delicious,
And afterward washed all the dishes,
Fed the cat, sprinkled the clothes,
Mended a basket full of hose.
Then opened the organ and began to play,
"When You Come to the End of a Perfect Day."