Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Monday, September 17, 2018

The Baker

Then

My blonde-haired son with eyes of brown,
Who rode his bike all over town,
He’d reached the grand old age of nine,
Had learned so much in all that time.

But mostly, how he loved to eat,
My cookies were a special treat,
He’d lick a beater, taste the dough,
Then grab a handful, off he’d go.

But soon, my boy just wanted to
Find out how he could make them. True.
And so he watched and so discovered,
His baking soon surpassed his mothers.

Tonight he joined us in our home,
He brought his wife and kids along,
We sat and talked and had such fun,
‘Twas hard to think it'd soon be done.

The grandkids said they had a yen
Our boy went in the kitchen then,
And set the oven, got some ‘stuff’,
Then added till he had enough.

It only took a moment, till,
He, all his kids’ dreams, he’d fulfilled,
And cookies warm were on the tray,
Enough to last till end of day.

And now, it was his mom. T’was so!
Who licked the beaters, tasted dough,
Then, as the cookies, warm, emerged
Stole a few, by hunger urged.

We gathered them (Just one more bite!),
To send with folks into the night,
I watched him pack up kids and then,
I thought of ‘now’ and thought of ‘when’.

It’s not so long since he was nine,
And still so young and still all mine,
Where did the years all pass away?
Did this not happen yesterday?

Today is his, it’s his turn now,
I wouldn’t change things anyhow,
I wave to them from on the porch.
I’m happy now. I’ve passed the torch.

Now

Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we three besought,
To try to make the week begin
With pleasant thoughts--perhaps a grin?
So Jenny and Delores, we,
Have posted poems for you to see.
And now you've seen what we have brought . . .
Did we help?
Or did we not?

Next week, us three, both me and they,
We'll talk of games we liked to play!           

11 comments:

  1. You raised a man who bakes....every woman in the world applauds you.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love this, so sweet! He saw, he learned, he was nurtured, he succeeded! Making baking look effortless and just whip up a treat is a great gift.

    ReplyDelete
  3. What a sweet story, Diane. Some kids just have more of a yen for baking than others. It's so good that he had a mom who encouraged his natural leanings. And also what Delores said :)

    And another great topic - games!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Hooray for the torch bearers. All of them.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Good job, Diane. I can't get either of my boys near a kitchen and in the end their stubbornness will not serve them well.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Where do the years go indeed...they go faster all the time...

    ReplyDelete
  7. As a mother (who has always baked cookies), your poem made me sigh and smile.

    ReplyDelete
  8. How lovely Diane - and isn't it amazing to see our children grow into wonderful adults who are strong and capable and loving - one of the rewards of parenthood!

    ReplyDelete
  9. My son also expressed an interest in cooking at age 9. He's 37 now and invents new versions of old favourites quite often. He doesn't bake cookies or cakes though, he leaves that to his sisters.

    ReplyDelete
  10. So sweet! Kudos to you for raising a man that bakes!

    ReplyDelete

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