For dipping: about 1 stick melted butter; in separate bowl, about 1½ c cinnamon sugar. Heat milk and water until very warm (not hot). Melt butter. In a large mixing bowl, put water & milk mixture. Add butter, salt, sugar. Stir to dissolve. Add eggs. Add yeast and stir to dissolve. Let set a couple of minutes to let yeast dissolve well. Gradually add flour ( I use bread flour.). Knead until dough is smooth and elastic. Put in a large slightly greased bowl (I use Pam) and turn to grease all sides. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and put in refrigerator for 2 to 24 hours. Remove dough from refrigerator. Punch down. Tear off golf ball size pieces and roll in the palms of your hands to slightly round shapes. Dip in melted butter then in cinnamon sugar. Place side by side in a baking pan. Cover and let rise in a warm place (not above 90°) until doubles (about 45 min.). Bake at 375° for about 20 minutes or till done.
About 1½ c. powdered sugar, 1½ tsp. vanilla, ¼ to ½ c. heavy cream. Mix till drizzling consistency (may need more or less cream – add slowly)
I usually use half the dough for cinnamon rolls and half for dinner rolls. If you make it all in cinnamon rolls, you will probably need more butter and cinnamon sugar for dipping. Use lots of cinnamon for better flavor.
Answer: Jim Meade in 1958 and Frosty Cooper in 1960.
Memories from Judy:
Every time Sue and I get together, we talk about how lucky we were to have had so much fun in Chemistry and Physics class. Sue was there because she was smart; I am not sure why I was there but imagine it had something to do with the boys. We had many memorable events happen in those two classes, but three come to mind:
In Chemistry Class, we refer to one event as the "Gunpowder Incident". I am not sure whose idea it was (Jim Meade comes to mind) but Mr. Turner stepped out of class and we decided to make gunpowder. We lined glass plates along the table, ran a line of gunpowder down the center and someone lit a match (Roger comes to mind here). We really did not know what to expect, but there was a sudden "Woosh" and the room filled with smoke. Terrified, we opened windows and started frantically fanning the smoke. The glass plates were split neatly down the middle. There were no smoke detectors in those days, and I suppose that may have been a good thing for us, but we survived and passed Chemistry. Poor Mr. Turner had a few more gray hairs after that one!
Another memory is of the "Rowdy Boys." I am not sure of the source of that name, but it was appropriate. Jerry Lundy, John Hughes, Jerry Dotson and maybe Roger? They were rowdy all the time, but my favorite "rowdy moment" was them coming to class and singing "Salty Dog" to us. I suppose Sue and I were sure they were singing just for us, but in any event, it was a special moment from a group of special guys. This may have been a counter to Mr. Turner singing "Danny Boy." It's funny that they didn't mind standing in front of the class singing but were a mess when asked to do a book report. Remember?
Standing on the corner with the lowdown blues, A great big hole in the bottom of my shoes, Honey let me be your salty dog. Look it here Sue, I know you; Run down stocking and a wore out shoe; Honey let me be your salty dog. Let me be your salty dog or I won't be your little man at all; Honey let me be your salty dog.
Another memory was in Physics Class and doing an electricity experiment.. We all stood in a circle, holding hands, hooked up to a generator. Susie was wearing a fuzzy sweater, which immediately became electrically charged and the long fibers stood out like a frightened rabbits hair. My long hair stood up and I can only imagined what that looked like, but it could not have been good! I really think Sue and I got more of an electrical spark from holding the boy's hands. I think Sue and I are the luckiest girls in the world!
Barbecues sandwiches, hamburgers and beans;
Our gourmet school lunches when we were teens;
There was no broccoli, cauliflower or brussel sprouts,
Frosty had those but wasn't giving them out!
Friday was green beans, applesauce, mac & cheese;
We weren't Catholic, why was there no beef?
Sunday in the Country
Sunday's were special times in my old hometown,
Up early in the morning then Sunday School bound.
At church we all were taught the Good Book,
Afterwards we went home to help our Mama's cook.
There were platters of biscuits, country ham and pies,
A favorite was chicken, crispy and iron skillet fried.
There were new potatoes cooked in fresh green beans,
Home grown tomatoes, some fried while they were green.
There was corn on the cob; we had butter dripping off our chin;
We didn't know it, but we were rich, way back then.
A favorite memory of mine,
is Momma calling "It's suppertime."
We all ran home, we couldn't wait,
wondering what Momma would put on our plate.
It might be cornbread and a bowl of pinto beans.
It might be fried chicken and a plate of turnip greens.
First we bowed our heads,
then asked to please pass the bread.
The last thing to be passed was the pie,
with the love in Momma's eyes.
At our recent planning meeting, several of the boys related this story of their misbegotten youth. Names are withheld because of ongoing 50 year investigations. It seems as if these boys were camping on Guest River at a place they called “Little Whirl.” They had caught no fish and were hungry. So they decided to steal some chickens from a nearby farmer to satisfy that hunger. They were catching chickens, running with their catch (chickens being held by their legs), and the chickens were squawking to the high heavens. One of the boys (who will remain unnamed) started yelling, “Choke that chicken" - "Choke that chicken” as they ran from the chicken yard. After they killed the chickens, they wrapped them in foil and cooked them in their campfire. (Their baked chicken was the forerunner of Cracker Barrel’s. These guys had Campfire Chicken long before Cracker Barrel ever heard of it - and long before we ever heard of Cracker Barrel.) One of the guys said that was all he remembered from that escapade. Another said, “Don’t tell everything that we did.” What I want to know is how did they get the feathers off those chickens? And where is Little Whirl?"
Remember Mr. Turner signing "Danny Boy"?