by MarianBeaman | Jul 27, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite History, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
The Martin clan gathers together for large family meals at my Grandma Longenecker’s house because Grandma, the oldest in her family, is a wonderful cook and has an enormous kitchen. Everybody likes Grandma, my dad’s mother. Grandma Fannie was a Martin and the Martins...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 24, 2013 | Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite Lore, Recipes, Southern lady friends, Uncategorized
Plan A The sweet aroma of ham-loaf baking wafts through the house as I hurry to welcome my Southern friends at the front door. They are in for a real treat: ham-loaf from Wenger’s Fine Meats in Elizabethtown, PA brought shrink-wrapped in my suitcase on the plane, My...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 20, 2013 | Coming of Age, Family / Nostalgia, Memory, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
Here we are, Juliets without our Romeos When Mom says “sca-doo!” at home, we know we can find amusement at Grandma’s house. Aside from the mysteries of the woods behind her house, other attractions include a slope where lilies of the valley...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 17, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Memory, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
Thumbnail: Home is on Anchor Road, connecting our house to Grandma’s house and neighbors in between. The story continues . . . . . . . As we drive from Grandma’s past the Hoffers, I notice off to the right the weathered frame house of Mr. Heisey, who...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 13, 2013 | Family / Nostalgia, Memory, Mennonite Lore, Neighborhood / Environment, Uncategorized
Home for me is bracketed by the two houses we ping-pong between: our parents house and Grandma’s house on Anchor Road. Her house is at the bottom of the hill and ours at the top. Both houses are along side Anchor Road, between Elizabethtown to the west and...
by MarianBeaman | Jul 3, 2013 | Coming of Age, Conflict, Family / Nostalgia, Mennonite Lore, Uncategorized
“Keep your hand upon the throttle and your eye upon the rail,” my Dad sings in his top-of–the-lungs baritone, the volume of his voice amplified by the force of his hands on the keyboard. Every Saturday night Daddy sits down at our mahogany Marshall and Wendell...
