Looking Back: A Tale of Bulls & Tea Cakes

By Sheila S. Hudson
Published on April 14, 2011
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Aunt Margaret and Uncle Roy used the tea cakes to get the prized bull, Horatio, back in his pen.
Aunt Margaret and Uncle Roy used the tea cakes to get the prized bull, Horatio, back in his pen.
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Saturdays we'd pin on an oversized bib apron and bake tea cakes.
Saturdays we'd pin on an oversized bib apron and bake tea cakes.

The summers I spent on the farm with my cousins were my favorite part of growing up. Saturdays we’d pin on an oversized bib apron and bake tea cakes. My cousin Lynn and I were in charge of sifting and measuring the flour. With all of our giggling, we’d manage to get flour in our hair and on our faces and hands, not to mention sprinkling the kitchen counters and linoleum floor with white madness.

My other cousin, Dee, was three years older and got to cream the butter, sugar and vanilla. We all diligently took turns rolling out the tea cakes then meticulously cutting the dough into delicately scalloped seashells. Then we waited impatiently for the tea cakes to bake so we could devour them. One particular Saturday in June, however, we didn’t get a single one.

Teenagers by now, Lynn and I were left to sweep and clean up the flour from our baking. While doing the mind-numbing work, we hatched a plan to sneak out on a double date. Lynn was already 16 and dating regularly, but I had not yet reached that magical age so I wasn’t allowed to date until December.

After we finished sweeping, Lynn telephoned her boyfriend, David, and the plan was set. We’d sneak out to the road where David and whoever he could get for my date would meet us. Afterward, Lynn and I would quietly climb back through the bedroom window, and no one would be the wiser.

Lynn and I retired earlier than usual, which should have immediately tipped off her mom. We were also giggling more than usual. Wearing our “date” clothes underneath our nightgowns on a hot August night left us sweating before the lights were out.

Lynn’s bedroom window faced a pecan grove, and at night that side of the yard was pitch dark. Lynn made sure everyone was asleep before we removed our nightgowns, raised the window and unlatched the screen. She tore her pedal pushers sliding out of the window. I listened for reassuring snores before I climbed out after her, praying the whole time we wouldn’t get caught.

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