Tuesday, November 17, 2015


My oldest granddaughter recently asked if she could have any old recipes that are written in my mother's handwriting.  I only found three, since I copied down most of her recipes myself:  The recipes for her noodles, fourteen-day sweet pickles, and brown sugar fudge are the ones she wrote herself.  I had my recipe box out looking for Mother's fruitcake recipe and remembered Amber's request, thinking I may as well give her these things now.  When I came on the brown sugar fudge card, though, I wondered, "Do I have another copy of this?  It's my favorite Christmas candy and I don't want to lose it."  

I remembered doing a blog entry to share the recipe in my old AOL journal and looked, just to make sure.  There was a small bonus, a poem I wrote, and I am copying and pasting the entire entry here.  The poem was originally for my chat room buddies, and I changed it in this entry to apply to my AOL J-Land friends.  It amazes me how appropriate it is for this very time in history.  If I were changing it now, it would probably be for my Facebook friends, some of whom are a little miffed at me because I insinuated they were "sheeple" for changing their profiles to the colors of the French flag to show they care.  Probably shouldn't have used that word, since I've been known to do things on Facebook just because everybody is doing it and it seemed like the thing to do at the time.  But I digress.  On to the old entry from 2003.

I found this poem in my Word documents while looking for another Christmas poem, and changed the words around a bit for my journal readers.  (Putting poems in this journal drives me nuts, because spacing and such is all messed up when you copy and paste.  That's why the last three lines are spaced by themselves!  Oh well, you get the meaning.)  


© copyright December 17, 2003

Donna Wood   

The normalcy of routine days
Helps all of us survive.
For otherwise, life's just a maze...
A fight to stay alive.
To read the items in the news
Would drive a soul insane:
Without some other, pleasant views,
We couldn't take the strain.

We seek out understanding folks
With humor bright and wry,
And make inane and useless jokes
While, somewhere, soldiers die.
We tend our gardens, cook our meals
And push the fear away
Full-knowing that the danger's real
And bombs might drop today.

I cling to everyday routine
And cherish it like gold
Ignoring threats that lie unseen
As I am growing old.
Life's a vapor, this is true,
A little puff of smoke.
I'm feeling just a little blue...
So please, tell me a joke!

The J-Land blogs we often read
Will help us all survive.
The laughs we share fulfill a need
And help the spirit thrive.
The friends I've found on AOL

Bring smiles, when skies are grey.
May all of you reap great rewards
On this next Christmas day!


Now, about brown sugar fudge:  My mom used to go into a frenzy of baking and candy-making, starting before Thanksgiving and not stopping until Christmas was over.  She made pink divinity, white divinity, several kinds of fudge, and my favorite:  Brown sugar fudge!  

She'd set out pretty dishes with an assortment of these home-made goodies, all around the house.  And I'd sneak around and dig out every piece of Brown sugar  fudge in each container.  She probably thought there were a lot of people  who loved the stuff, the way it disappeared.  But I think I was the only one eating it.   

Every year, I make at least one batch of Brown Sugar Fudge.  If I make more, I'll eat it all.  And my orthopedist would like me to keep my weight down as a favor to my mutilated knees.

Cliff says it's so sweet, it'll set your teeth on edge.  My daughter says it tastes too much like "pure brown sugar".  People at work have asked me to bring some so they can try it.  I oblige, knowing they won't like it.  "Too sweet," they say.    

In recent years, some of my grandchildren have begun to share my fondness for the stuff... so what do I do?  I hide it from them!  Oh, I let them have a piece or two, but then I shove the regular chocolate Fantasy fudge in their faces to distract them.    There's just something about Brown Sugar fudge that takes me back to childhood instantly.  I'm a little girl again, Santa Clause is coming, and Mamma's lap is available any time I need comforting.  It's just a shame the stuff is so fattening.  

Here's the recipe, but I warn you now, you won't like it.  I copied this direct from my mom's recipe card, and I love the way it's worded.  "... remove from fire".  Is that old-fashioned, or what?   

1 pound box brown sugar
2 large tablespoons white syrup
3/4 cup cream (or evaporated milk, but I like cream)
1/4 cup butter
   Cook slowly to soft ball stage.  Then remove from fire.  Add 1 teaspoon vanilla.  Beat till very thick.  Add nuts and pour in buttered pan.  Add a few marshmallows, if desired.  (I don't add marshmallows, but that's how my mom gave me the recipe)


I'm mostly known as 'MA' said...

You have the best of memories and the fudge does sound wonderful !

Sister--Three said...

Oh, that brown sugar fudge sounds so good.

Lori said...

It sounds good, but I think it would set my teeth on edge. I can't eat fudge much any more. I LOVED the poem, and it is very appropo for our time. This was a post from before I started journaling, so it's my first time reading it.