---

back in the day
folks don't buy mayonnaise
they make their own
at a slow boil
on a wood stove
with eggs, milk and vinegar

Grandma buys baloney
sliced from a log
as a special treat
before the 'end of school' picnic
with homemade mayo
for my mom and Uncle Al
-once a year

I'm five years old
when Daddy picks Grandma
up from Greyhound Bus Stop
Mama makes her a baloney sandwich
she eats it like sirloin steak
her lips smacking
and her teeth clicking

---

Love the "lips smacking and her teeth clicking," Cheryl, and this whole meditation on baloney and mayo down through the generations. Makes me want to go get some. A couple edit thoughts: S2 seems out of chronology somehow, "back in the day" and "turkey bologna", for example; that whole S could be cut, I think. And seems odd to add "Cochrane" to same grandma's name in last S; nor is it clear if this is N's other grandma. -Tom

Okie dokie, will take the snips to it.  I knew there was something wrong with it but not sure what.  It was in the workshop for awhile but I forgot about it too.  Forgot about alot of poems there.

The second stanza is a result of me trying to add a little to the thought of bologna, but maybe baloney doesn't need it.

Thanks much,
cheryl

cheryl, still enjoying this poem a lot. but a bit hung up by the "to" in S2. tom

I'm getting old.  I remember those days.  Now we're the United States of Arugula, with all KINDS of exotics right there on the supermarket shelf.   I liked my baloney fried, so it would form a pocket in the middle, and they thought I was exotic on Oak Street when I liked ketchup AND mustard on my hotdog.

we friend "baloney-cheese-baloney" melting a velveeta slice in the middle. that's it! i DO have to go get some.

Yeah that 'to' didn't sound right at all.  Have no idea what I was thinking.  Thanks for pointing it out and for replying to this poem

cheryl

Well you're not alone, Rick, I remember those little pockets too.  We used to cut ours up like a wagon wheel so it would lay flat.

And I like ketchup and cheese on my my hot dog too, and chili, and cheese, and cole slaw....

Thanks so much for bearing with me and participating in a short memory jaunt,
cheryl

velveeta is the best for melting.  cheddar the best for taste, but either will do with fried bologna.

thanks again, for sharing your personal menu.  very revealing.                        !!
cheryl

to picks

I didn't realize this was here.  Thanks so much.

cheryl

my goodness, shocked my drawers off to see this here.  thought I was seeing things, literally.  thank you so much.

cheryl

hey, congrats, cheryl.
'bout time we got some REAL baloney on front page!
tom

lol, now that's funny Tom.  thanks very much.

cheryl

big congratulations!

Thanks John.  I have no idea who put it here, but I hope they recognize my gratitude.

cheryl

Nice pick! BTW Cher - you can check the calendar for the editor of the week!

Thank you Lavonne.  Never have checked the calendar.  Even more thrilled now.  Thanks Rick!!

cheryl

cheryl,  grand to find this on our front page - well done!!

k

congrats! kiddo!  keep up the good work!

it was only a matter of time. your canwill not be denied.

deh

Kevin, thank you so much.  It means alot to get a 'grand' from you.

Glad you're out there,
cheryl

Lynn, thanks so much.  You know what your replies mean to me--alot more than you know.

cheryl

David thank you, and so glad to see you and your reply.  Missed you.  Where in the world have you been? 

Hope you're doing well,
cheryl

silent, thanks so much for your kind and meaningful words, always.

cheryl

Makes a fine front page, Cheryl.

milner

milner thanks so much.  I am really surprised.  But very appreciative.

cheryl

Well, teeth clicking, I'm eating my fried baloney right now, so can testify that this poem has changed my life. As to eating some of my new stash with mayo, I confess I'm not quite ready for that.

Fried baloney for breakfast now that's a new one.  Well actually it's brunch, isn't it? 

Thanks much for the reply.

cheryl

There are lots of reasons to really like this poem.  It speaks to me of childhood and of transition into the reality that life can be pretty tough.  You begin the poem with back in the day and speak of recollections but the voice is in a present tense.  Normally, I would always keep it in present but the "back in the day" makes it past.  I wonder why you chose a lack of punctuation here? The ending seems sad.

I've really enjoyed reading this thought provoking poem.



back in the day
folks don't didn't buy mayonnaise
they make made their own
at a slow boil
on a wood stove
with eggs, milk and vinegar

Once a year
Grandma buys bought baloney
sliced from a log
as a special treat
before the 'end of school' picnic
a sandwich
with homemade mayo
for my mom and Uncle Al
-once a year

I'm was five years old
when Daddy pickeds Grandma
up from a Greyhound Bus Stop
Mama makde es her a baloney sandwich
she eats ate it like a sirloin steak
her lips smacking
and her teeth clicking

Sherry, I've been thinking that same thing, now and then, but apparently it's ok that way.  I'll leave it alone for now, since it was chosen that way.  Doesn't happen to me often at all, so I won't go messing with things, unless Rick says something about changing it.

I visited your blog Sherry.  Love the way you have it laid.  I've tried blogging but never carry through with it.  Most of my internet life is here at PC, complete with pretend lovers, (lol) which is enough life for me.

Thanks so much for reading and for your comments,
cheryl

Blogging is a nightmare and a big problem because I can't remember my password and have changed my e-mail address.  Another dilemma.

Your poem reminds me of my grandmother who passed away several years ago. I actually wrote about her in my poem Family Business. I recall visiting her in a nursing home and much further back when I was a young child.  Life has a way of teaching us things along the way.

I enjoy your poetry very much--pretend lovers or not--doesn't matter at all.  It just keeps yours readers guessing and as Martha Stewart would say "that's a good thing". Listen to Rick.  He knows his stuff.

Sherry

Okie dokie, Sherry.  Thanks again.

I've enjoyed seeing this "so much more than a recipe" each day this past week...thanks Cheryl.