Cajun Corner Vol 1, No 22

Cajun Corner – Vol. 1, No. 22 – OCTOBER 23, 2009
Bon Jour! Welcome to Cajun Stitchery’s weekly email and welcome to our family.
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I was born in Marietta, Georgia at Kennestone Hospital. Our little family was living in Georgia because my father was dying of Hodgkins Disease and his family lived in Georgia. When I arrived into this world, I was well over a month late. Mama always told me the story that she was dressing Nancy for a Halloween party when her water broke. We were living in Woodstock, Georgia which was a significant drive to the nearest hospital, Kennestone – remember this was in 1950. She gave birth to me around 2:00 a.m. While in the hospital, the nurses came by to complete the information on the birth certificate. Mama says that she told the little southern girl that she wanted her daughter’s name to be Marguerite Odette Poor. Apparently you are not allowed to have the name Marguerite in Georgia because she wrote Margaret Odette Poor. Alas, I was official and had a name. As it turned out Mama’s nurse was named Peggy and asked Mama to call me Peggy. It stuck and that’s my name.

Growing up I seemed to have a lot of name issues. Having the last name of “Poor” leads to volumes of jokes and teasing. When I attended Mt. Carmel in Lafayette (first through third grades), the hook at the back of the room where I would hang my little coat read “Poor, Peggy”. Poo yie. When my mother married my step-father, Johnny, the question always arose, “why is your last name not the same as your daddy’s?” Well, that was in Louisiana. In Georgia, my daddy’s last name, Delhomme, was kind of like Marguerite. No one could spell it or pronounce it, so it was avoided at all cost. In Louisiana, it’s pronounced da-loam. In Georgia, it’s pronounced dell-homey. Translated it is “the man.” He sure was “the man” in my life.

In Georgia the big department store of the day was Rich’s. The Rich family owned it. I don’t believe I could tell you how many times people would say, “Peggy, if you were to marry one of the Rich boys, you could be Peggy Rich or Peggy Poor Rich.” The only thing to do with a name like that is beat everyone to the punch. So, I would just explain that I was raised at the Poor House. Later in life I learned that the big stock company, Standard & Poor, is actually a distant relative.

Before I was old enough to attend school and we lived in Louisiana, my Grandmother Theaux (pronounced th-ey-oh) took care of me while Mama and Daddy were at work. Everyday my Grandmother would get the mail and go through it making little stacks for each person in the household. I always had a stack of mail addressed to “occupant”. One day I asked my Mama if “occupant” was one of my middle names. She loved that story.

How many nicknames have I had? Of course, there is Peggy. The history of Peggy is that the name Margaret is as old as the Bible. Through the course of time Margaret became a myriad of names, including Marge, Margie, Mag, Maggie, Meg, Meggan, etc. All of these are nicknames of Margaret. Further through time the Meg and Meggan were changed to Peg and eventually Peggy.

In Woodstock, my name was “Baby.” My step-grandmother Poor had been an English professor. That was quite a feat for a woman in the early 20th century. When I was born, she was 60 years old and quit teaching to help care for me. As I said, my father was dying when I was born. He died when I was 10 months old. While he was alive my mother was busy caring for him, my sister and myself. Grandmother Poor stepped in to help ease the situation. Although they all lived together, she used to say that she took me from the day I was born and raised me. Even after Mama married Johnny and moved us to Louisiana, Nancy and I would spend the summers in Woodstock with Grandmother Poor. Everyone knew me as grandmother’s baby and called me “Baby.”

In Louisiana, my Grandfather Theaux had a “term of endearment” that he used to call me, fonte pouchambre. I know I am spelling this wrong and if any of my french speaking readers can help me find the correct spelling, I would appreciate it. The meaning of this term of endearment is, and you thought Poor was bad, “bottom of the slop jar.” I was his little “fonte pouchambre.”

Then, of course, my mother’s nickname for me was “tit crotte” meaning “little shit.”

Proverbs 22:1 says, “A good name is to be more desired than great riches…” People love to be called by their name and people love personalized items. Don’t forget to make your Christmas gifts personalized. An initial, name, or even a nickname on an item increases the value to the recipient.
Always remember that we are just a call or email away at cajunstitchery@yahoo.com or 850-261-2462 and place your order.

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One day Boudreaux went to the doctor to get a check up. Boudreaux says to the doctor, "Mais you know something doc ... my wife Clotile, she's having trouble wit her hearing."

De doc say, "Well Boudreaux, how bad is it?"

"Mais doc I don't know how bad it really is but she don't seem to hear me at all. Whats de best way to find out how bad her hearing is?"

De doc say, "Boudreaux, when you get home stand about 20 feet behind Clotile and say something in your regular voice. If Clotile don't respond then move up 10 feet and try again. If you don't get any response again move up 5 feet and try, then if you don't get any response move right up behind her and try."

When Boudreax got home, Clotile was wash dem dish in de sink so he get about 20 feet back and say, "Clotile what we havin for dinner?"

Mais there was no response, so he move up 10 feet and say dat again. Still no response so he move up 5 feet and try. Nothing...

"Hunh, it worse dan I tought," Boudreaux say to himself.

He move right up behind Clotile now and ax her one mo time, "Clotile, what we havin for dinner?"

Clotile turned, looked at him and said, "for the fourth time, I said we havin' chicken and rice!".

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French phrase of the week: itou (adv.) also; too. Moi itou, je veux partir. ( I want to leave, too.) Variant: aussi.

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We have been cleaning the yard and putting in our winter garden over the past couple of weeks here at Cajun Stitchery. Our vegetable garden is built into our landscape, right outside the kitchen door. We created the garden in raised beds to prevent so much back-breaking work. Many years ago I read an article on helping the disabled to garden. Raised beds were used and a wheelchair move around the yard and garden, from flowers to vegetables. What a great idea?

We also maintain two compost areas. One area actively receives the leaves, waste, paper, etc., while the other ages, being hosed and turned frequently.

We try to maintain our perennial vegetables and fruit outside of the vegetable garden area. That area is reserved for annual fruits and vegetables, only. I must admit that some perennials do creep into the vegetable garden because some perennials, such as peppers, are treated like annuals.

Please let me know if there is something that you would like to see in the weekly email. You may always call me at (850) 261-2462 or email me at cajunstitchery@yahoo.com.

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C’est tout, mes amis

Peggy Henshall

Cajun Stitchery

(850) 261-2462

cajunstitchery@yahoo.com

P.S. You are always welcome to stop by and look at all of the new catalogs and pass some time with me, cher.

Christmas is right around the corner – have you done your shopping yet? Take advantage of this week’s special and get ahead of the shopping rush.

Cajun Stitchery