Fried Eggs with Lace Edges: Granny Is Cooking Poetry

By Allena Faye Dulaney

Fried eggs with lace edges I grew up during the Great Depression, and World War II. With five kids, we didn't have much. But we didn't know it, even with holes in our shoes, and cardboard between us and the ground. In summer, we had no shoes on our feet, they were tough and bare. But we didn't mind. Come the new school year, we would get a new pair. Maybe a buck ninety-eight, from selling a pig. We lived on a farm and had plenty to eat, especially chickens and eggs. Mother cooked on a wood stove, and on cold winter mornings, it was fired up good and hot. We would thaw out the water bucket, with the dipper frozen solid. She would make a batch of biscuits, and fried taters and gravy. And with the stove so hot, our eggs had lace edges. I still make them that way, I get laughed at a lot. But that is the way I like them. Ahh for the good old days Allena Faye Dulaney; just call me "Granny." Everybody does. AFD-March 2009

• Format: Paperback
• Language: English
• ISBN: 1432745565
• ISBN13: 9781432745561
• Release Date: December 2009
• Publisher: Outskirts Press
• Length: 108 Pages
• Weight: 0.37 lbs.
• Dimensions: 9.0" x 0.3" x 6.0"