I’ve been making fudge for over 30 Christmases. Somewhere along the line, the division between helper and doer blurred between my mom and I during the cookie and candy making fervor of Christmas, the net result being me making fudge for many a Christmas. For most of those 30+ years, I used my mom’s awesome recipe. But then my parents had a house fire and the recipe card disappeared before I could copy it down for myself. That was only the second year I didn’t make fudge since turning about ten or eleven years old. Then, a few months later, I received a copy of my Grandma’s fudge recipe and I’ve been back in the fudge making business since.
It seems I have been awarded the highly esteemed “Mother of the Year” Award. Again. Man, I really need to do something about this, as a person just shouldn’t be winning this award so often. It is unseemly. And then, of course, with its conferring, comes all the other host of issues: what should I say in my acceptance speech, what should I wear, which handbag best accents my thin parts, can I get a haircut and color in time? And then, there is the whole hornet’s nest of which wine best accompanies such an event.
This all brings to mind the first time I won the “Mother of the Year” award. If memory serves me, I believe I found the three inches of 2 month old Zinfandel that was languishing in the fridge went down just fine.
When I married my husband, I – like other newlyweds – had no real idea just what I was getting into with the whole marriage gig. What I mean to say is that you fall head over heels in love with someone and just never think about how adding that person to your personal history also means you are adding all the people and history that your loved one has acquired along the way. Lucky for me, my husband came with a great family and some quite excellent stories. He also came with the legacy of the Christmas cookies we call Mimi’s Orange Balls.
Let me share his story and her recipe with you.