In recent years, my mom and some of her good childhood friends have gotten together for a ladies’ lunch with all daughters, mothers, aunts, and sisters invited, too. And absolutely no boys allowed. It would be rude to invite them anyway because we have to talk about them. Or at least the ladies want to hear from the daughters about any boyfriends on the scene.
Although we got together for lunch, Glenda, this year’s host, had prepared quite a delicious feast: baked ham, green beans and potatoes, candied fried apples, butternut squash, cranberry sauce and rolls. It was positively scrumptious and beautiful. Glenda had set the table with lovely pieces of china and vintage dishes.
Served alongside the food were lots of great stories about growing up together and how much the small town has changed. There was quite a discussion about how hitch-hiking was no big deal back in the day, the new art gallery in town, and big personalities that everybody knew and loved.
And, in true southern fashion, there were just as many desserts as there were dishes for the main meal. Among them were jam cake with both dough icing (my favorite) and caramel icing (my mom’s favorite), chocolate cake, bourbon balls, coconuts balls, peanut brittle, cookies and more.
I love my mom’s face in this picture. I think she was saying, “Don’t be eying that caramel iced jam cake, lady.” Just kidding. I think.
We shared lots of laughs over good memories. There were some really good ones, but if I told you about them I’d have to kill you. Or at least I might not be invited back to ladies lunch.
Y’all come back,