Today has been a nostalgic day. Somedays are just like that. Entering the final weeks of this pregnancy my hormones are up and down and all around from one second to the next. While routinely feeding my younger children lunch a flood of memories from my childhood came.
When I was in grade school our annual fundraiser was a chili feed. This was a really big event. Because my dad was a farmer he had extra time in the winter and somehow he and a friend Rod Frahm became the chairmen for several years. Their leadership roles allowed our family first spots in helping prepare, host, and clean up the chili feed. They gave a lot of time gathering donations and supplies, working with people and managing the cooking of the huge pots of chili.
Although I wasn't a huge fan of the chili, it was usually too spicy, even the recipe was special. A former family from the school, in fact maybe one of the first families to attend the school donated their personal chili recipe. The Trenkle Chili has been served to thousands year after year. Every year we would ask my dad to not make the chili too hot. Yet I remember watching many of the patrons dashing liberal amounts of hot sauce on their beans to make the contents hotter! The dinner consisted of chili- all you could eat if you stayed on site!, salad with special vinegar dressing, chips or crackers, white or chocolate milk, and homemade pie.
I remember the friendly competition and intense desire to draw the winning poster to be enlarged and shown around town advertising the upcoming feast. There were some creative entries. Many that showed talking beans or bowls of chili. I remember sorting huge bags of dry beans to ensure no rocks or dirt ruined the chili for sale. I remember the fun and nervousness of going door to door with my parents pedaling tickets for the event. There were other families who always outsold ours that was a disappointment year after year. Yet, each year we planned and worked to try again at being in the top 3 selling positions.
I remember being amazed at the huge buckets of salad dressing and thinking how could that much salad ever be consumed? It's funny because I primarily use 5 gallon buckets to store cooking supplies here and I know how quickly 5 gallons disappears with a lot of people. The night of the chili feed the school was flooded with patrons from all the Valley. It was an awesome! It also took a lot of volunteer effort to feed the thousands that seemed to come.
I was not a good waiter. I spilled drinks on people, that was embarrassing. I remember helping with take out and eyeing the pie booth, and playing. I'm pretty sure we had to go home at a reasonable hour after we had "helped enough."
I always asked my grandma Corn to make pies. She made apple. They were so tender, flaky, and delicious. Sometimes I think we come very close to her pie recipe once or twice I think we have copied it exactly but it's not consistent and I've never had perfectly mild pumpkin pie as hers. I don't know what she did- I'm pretty sure she didn't keep track either. I've followed the recipe suggestions she shared but never come close to her pumpkin pie. I don't remember how many she brought maybe 2 maybe 4. I just remember being so proud that she would bring pie to our event.
The day following the official feed we were guaranteed a lunch of the leftover chili and salad. If there was enough left other grade schools in the district also enjoyed chili for lunch. The benefit was having chocolate milk again. In those days chocolate milk was only for special occasions not daily. I think our fabulous cooks also made some home made rolls to go with the chili. Those ladies were amazing with yeast dough.
There are so many emotions swirling in my head today of family, motherhood, the heady power of creating life, and then shaping those lives for good or bad throughout childhood and adolescence. I came from a family that worked together and shared experiences. Greg and I have sought to give our children much of the same. We aren't strong on the recreate together aspect, but we have enjoyed our own fundraising experiences at our children's schools and events. Somewhere I am sure there are pictures of this piece of my own development. The skill of selling is an important one I have used time and again. The ability to see needs and meet them are always in demand. And the unity found working with peers and their families were priceless parts of the security I enjoyed in my childhood. Life is good.
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