Sunday 4 November 2007

Fireworks Fudge

Once a year I make fudge.

It is full of colours and flavours
and an avalanche of happy memories.

The recipe comes from a farmhouse kitchen of my childhood
with slate floor, cream aga and endless wooden table.

My children will not know Sue
who gave me the recipe
because she died, too young, of breast cancer.

But the memory of her dark hair and laughter is bright for me.

Swimming in quarries, rides in Landrovers,
scrambling on haystacks, searching for hens' nests,
walking through wooded valleys.

I can remember phoning her for the recipe
and I am so very glad that I did.

Happy memories are a powerful gift
from one generation to another.

I am confident that once a year
my children will make fudge
and the story of the bet on the winter beach will live on.

10 comments:

Unknown said...

The fudge looks wonderful - any chance of the recipe please?

tess said...

I'm so sorry about your friend, I hope the pain of her loss is bearable. I love the idea of her fudge becoming a family tradition, and that because of that she will always be fondly remembered. take care of yourself, and enjoy Sue's fudge.

Anonymous said...

Memories are precious and it is nice to know that in a way Sue's memory will be passed on through the generations who make her fudge. Now can I please have the recipe?

Anonymous said...

Go on. Tell us about the bet on the winter beach!

Anonymous said...

That was beautifully put.

Now, will you swap that fudge recipe for a sportscar?


A fat cat lawyer.

blackbird said...

That's just how we are about recipes.
They become intertwined with our lives...

Mary said...

Last year I made all the things that Mum still makes every year at Christmas time - chocolate ginger, rumballs, white christmas. It was so lovely.

And the kids loved it so I am hoping that it will be something that sits in their psyche until they repeat the tradition. Not long now before those recipes will be coming out again.

To be joined by fudge perhaps?

dottycookie said...

Such a wonderful way to remember your friend. I have anemones growing outside my kitchen window that came from my late mother-in-law's garden - she was also Sue. They bloom every year around the time she died and I think of the time she gave them to me and how much she taught me about gardening, amongst other things.

Hugs.

alice c said...

Carolyn and Anne
The recipe cometh soon!
Philip
No bartering allowed but you can come and do the washing up - or do butlers only do silver?

carrie said...

I love how you capture all your memories as you go through the steps to making your wonderful looking fudge -- remembering her the whole time. That is what tradition means to me, too, honoring the person whom I learned it, like my Great Grandmother's Lemon Merangue (sp?) pie.

Thank you for sharing.