I'm not sure that I even know where to start. There are so many memories. I'm sure to forget some things.
I can remember playing on the kitchen floor when I was a young child. I would spread out all my little soldiers, firefighters, policemen, trucks, cars, and whatever else I was playing with at the time. Oh yeah, I'm sure pots and pans worked their way into the formula somehow. I know it must have driven my mother crazy, especially if she was trying to wash dishes (no dishwasher...she was it) or cooking. She tolerated a lot, until she finally had enough and would tell me to get from under her feet. Of course, I just had to be around her.
There were many comical scenes between her and my grandmother (great grandmother), Mama Aggie. They would spread the newspaper out over the kitchen table and start crackin' crabs and beers. After a dozen or so boiled crabs (we have the wonderful blue crabs here in SE Louisiana) and probably close to the same in cold ones, the scene could become rather energized. They loved each other dearly and could certainly get on each other's nerves. They would start goin' at it, until finally, Mama Aggie had enough. She would put her hand up in the air and make a weird sounding, "la la la (or was it na na na)", as she walked toward the front of the house. She was headed back next door where she lived after she moved from across the street. She made sure to remind mama to send her dinner over later.
My cousin, Sharon, reminded me at the funeral of the many Sunday dinners she enjoyed at our house. I love Sharon. She took care of me when I was a baby. She cried at the funeral and told me that my eulogy for mama reminded her of how hard it was raising me right after Paul died. I loved when Aunt Noonie (Ethel) and Sharon would come over on Sunday. Mama was a great cook, as it is almost something many of us are born with in New Orleans. She would cook all kinds of food. The most served on Sunday was probably roast w/ brown gravy (she made it all from scratch...never canned stuff) and mashed potatoes or baked macaroni and cheese  . I'm killing myself here. She would start off the mac -n- cheese with Kraft, when you used to get the can of cheese. She would always leave some in the can for me. Then, she had to keep a close eye on me to make sure that I wouldn't snag too much of the Cracker Barrell Extra Sharp Cheddar cheese that she was slicing for the best stuff ever. Sometimes, we had roast w/ red gravy and some form of pasta. Daddy was a butcher. We always had excellent quality beef. There were also the days that mama would just order Popeye's Chicken with all the good stuff....onion rings, fries, biscuits, dirty rice, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob. My brother would go pick it up. I usually took the ride with him.
There were many birthdays celebrated around that kitchen table...and holidays, of course. Quite a few wonderful turkeys ( or as mama would say...birds) were served at that table, next to the old rotary dial wall phone with the super long twisted up cord that would knock you out if the receiver hit you in the head.
My good friend Doug reminded me of a few episodes at the table. My friends and I would hang out at my house or their houses after school or on the weekend. There was a tight group of four of us. No matter which house we were at, those women were in constant communication. They knew where we were and that we were safe. We were always fed. And all of those ladies had equal authorization to beat any of our butts if we got out of line. That was the good ole' days. What has happened today? (hmmmm.....story for another blog) We would hang out in the kitchen until mama finally had enough of us. She would tell us to go outside and play and get out of her hair.
This is just a few things to speak of. I will definitely have more. This blog is getting long. I could go on and on. I am grateful that I have so many wonderful memories.
Thanks for letting me share some more of Mama Millie, who eventually became Mama Nolie.....definitely a story for another blog.  
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