Memories from Earth: A Bushel and a Peck

This is another post with a bit of levity. Here's a memory from Earth in this lifetime. One of those happy times that sometimes take me a while to remember and dig out of the box in my mental attic. But I heard a song the other day, and it reminded me of this.

​The song is "A Bushel and a Peck" by Doris Day. I have added the lyrics at the bottom of this post.

It's summer time where I live, and school is out. So my brother and I are on what's called summer vacation (or summer break). Mom and dad work all day, so my brother and I are dropped off at grandma's house just about every single day during the break.

We ride bikes outside, explore the woods behind the neighborhood. Sometimes, my friend Ryan next door lets me come over and play video games with him and his friends. He's four years older than me and I'm only 9. I'm like his little sister, but he's gotten to the age where it's only "kinda" cool to let little sister come play.

I have a Walkman, headphones, and I spend a lot of my day outside with music playing in my ears. Usually Beach Boys, even though the year is 1996 and what kids listen to the Beach Boys voluntarily? (This one.)

But when we're not outside playing by ourselves, we're inside watching cartoons from the 40's (Looney Tunes) or reruns from the 70's or movies from the 60's. I mean, the whole experience is a constant one of cultural time travel. Grandma loves Elvis, and I find I don't like Elvis. But the Cat from Outer Space comes on a few times, and I love the idea of a talking cat so much I watch it every time. So does my brother. If we're not watching Tom & Jerry.

Anyway, on this day, we're not outside. Maybe it's raining or it's too hot. This is several of these types of days blended together after all.

My brother and I are in the kitchen with grandma. The kitchen is tiny. There's only enough room for a table and a little bit of counter space. There's a dark linoleum floor that's practically ancient and covered in little brown square designs. Sometimes I get distracted staring at these. I don't know why, but I do. It also smells a little like cigarettes, because grandma smokes. But I find it doesn't bother me too much. We've clustered at the kitchen table, and we have a box of Stouffer's blueberry muffin mix.

Grandma lets us help her cook, and it's my favorite thing to do with her. We take everything out of the box, and she has us read off the directions while she does most of the assembly. We get to take turns stirring everything together. Grandma whips the eggs, then my brother adds the milk and the mix. She has me go over to the can opener that's electric, but as old as the house is. I open the can of blueberries--I love the satisfactory hum of the little can opener--then she helps me rinse them.

They go in the mix and she shows us how to fold the batter so the blueberries don't get all squished and ruined. Then we all fill up the muffin tin and into the oven it goes. Her oven is also ancient. It's one of those ivory-colored deals from the 70's where the knobs are silver and...well...very 1970s. There's no digital thermometer like at our house with mom and dad. So, we have to watch a  dial instead. Up to 350F, and in go the muffins for some minutes.

Sometimes, while we're cooking, grandma comes up behind me and starts singing "A Bushel and a Peck" while kissing my ears and my head and my cheeks. I usually start laughing when she gets to "A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo". I can't help it. She's just so cute about it. This is the only person I allow to do this. My mother, I try to squirm away from. My father wouldn't dare. Other family members, cousins, aunts, other grandmas...never. But this grandma can do it. She's the only one whose lap I like to sit in and listen to stories. Everybody else can take a hike.

My brother and I now get to our favorite part. We take little spatulas and attack the bowl that had the batter. It's a messy job, but somebody has to make sure nothing goes to waste. Especially not precious muffin batter.

Then sometimes we sit down while the muffins cook and play Monopoly or Uno. If we're playing Uno, somehow I magic exactly the right cards into my hand every time. (And I am a total snot about complex plays with quadruple reversals, wild cards, and suit matching.)  If we play Monopoly, my brother somehow magics all the right properties. I don't mind losing Monopoly, so long as I get the little dog for my player piece. Or the hat. I like the top hat.

Muffins are ready. Sometimes we eat them right there in the kitchen. Most of the time, we go build a fort out of the couch cushions and blankets and eat them in our couch fort while watching something else on TV.

Grandma died when I was in college in my 20's. And yet, to this day, sometimes I hear her come up behind me and go "A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo" right in my ear (only I hear it in my head). It always makes me smile. Love you, grandma.

I thank you for your time. Adiamas.

​--Kyriel

A Bushel and a Peck - Doris Day

I love you a bushel and a peck
A bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck
A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
A barrel and a heap and I'm talkin' in my sleep

About you, about you
'Cause I love you a bushel and a peck
You bet your purdy neck I do
A doodle oodle ooh doo
A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo

I love you a bushel and a peck
A bushel and a peck though you make my heart a wreck
Make my heart a wreck and you make my life a mess
Make my life a mess, yes a mess of happiness

About you, about you
'Cause I love you a bushel and a peck
You bet your purdy neck I do
A doodle oodle ooh doo
A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo

I love you a bushel and a peck
A bushel and a peck and it beats me all to heck
It beats me all to heck, how I'll ever tend the farm
Ever tend the farm when I wanna keep my arm
​
About you, about you
'Cause I love you a bushel and a peck
You bet your purdy neck I do
A doodle oodle ooh doo
A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo

A doodle oodle oodle ooh doo
A doodle oodle ooh doo doo