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| George and Gladys |
George and Gladys Korber, my folks, on the courthouse steps in Reno, Nevada, right after their wedding on Nov. 5, 1942. The wedding had some urgency. 3 days later, Dad was on a ship heading for basic training at Schofield Barracks in Hawaii. They did not see each other again for 3 years; when he returned, his black hair had gone gray. But there was peace in Europe and the Pacific, the troops finally came home, a tide of peace bringing George back to his Gladys.
Momma's Tau Taffy Fudge, a Christmas Candy:
2 cups sugar1 cup evaporated milk
1/2 cup margarine
12 ounces chunky peanut butter
1 jar Krafts Marshmallow Creme
1 tsp vanilla
Combine sugar, milk and margarine. Bring to a rolling boil. Stir constantly, mixture scorches easily. Boil 12-15 minutes over medium heat, remove from heat. Stir in peanut butter, until melted. Add marshmallow cream and vanilla, beat until well blended. Pour into a greased 9 inch pan. Cool. Cut in squares.
I copied this recipe from a version in my mom's own hand, she had written it on a 3x5 card and tucked it in my recipe box many years ago. I copied it here, thinking of her on her birthday, Dec. 21, 2017.
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99 years ago today, the winter's solstice 1918, my mom was born into this world, entering into the grand adventure of being a human being via a lonely patch of prairie on a homestead in Montana. She was born into a night with a wild winter storm, Wind (screaming), Cold (bone-chilling), and Snow (swirling into blindness) Montana-style. Her dad delivered her, cut and tied her umbilical cord (he had delivered plenty a calf in his day, how hard could it be! Result: an outie) and tucked mom into her cradle behind the wood stove, the warmest place in their little cabin. I don't know for sure if this part is true, but her momma, a German immigrant, used to sing to her "Stille Nacht Heil'ge Nacht", so I like to imagine that was her first lullaby that freezing night. I don't remember ever seeing the homestead site, though I may have gone as a little girl. When I was older, when we visited Pompeii's Pillar once, it was not so far away, and so we drove out to a place where two ruts in the dirt made a road-of-sorts that stretched straight out to distant northern horizon. It reached out to a place where blue sky met grace and a grass-rimmed world. I learned the homestead was "out there". (Mom's family later moved to a ranch outside of Bozeman, an easier place to Be.) So it was: "out there", 99 years ago in a long dark night, the beginnings of a person of great heart, who loved life, loved people. Sometimes, in the face of absurdity, she would laugh so hard and sweet, that happy tears would roll down her cheeks. Everybody would laugh with her, you couldn't help it. I really miss mom. She used to fuss about her birthday being on the solstice, the shortest day of the year. My dad, on cue, and about as risque as he ever got, would raise his eyebrows, twinkle at her, and flirt "Yes, Gladys, but its the longest _night_!" Missing dad too. Happy birthday momma's spirit, mom and dad, rest in peace.
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At least after I came into the scene, Christmas-time always triggered a ceremonial Tau Taffy Fudge production -- the "stir constantly" part filled with tension, a frenzied "whupping" at the stove, and then all the fretting about whether it would set up properly when it cooled. But then, a miracle, it would set, just right, a perfect golden cube would be cut, and yum! It was no doubt at least in part the anticipation of sharing the next annual installment of Christmas Fudge that kept Mom and Dad's marriage steadfast for 50 years.
For Momma:
