Today Pegman walks through a St. Louis neighborhood.
Feel free to stroll around the area using the Google street view and grab any picture you choose to include in your post.
To enjoy stories inspired by the What Pegman Saw prompt or to submit your own 150-word story, visit the inLinkz button:
For guidelines and rules for the What Pegman Saw weekly writing prompt, visit the home page.
Since I chose the destination this week, I had no choice but to write a story. Right? Of course, right!
Even at 150 words…50 over my normal flashes, I found myself wishing for more. 😉 Below is my choice of prompt. It brought back some wonderful childhood memories.
Genre: Mostly Memoir-Some Fiction
Word Count: 150
SCHUHLEDER
Compared to our ranch-style house in Kansas City, George Weinberg’s two-story in St. Louis seemed a veritable palace. I looked forward to sojourns with our cousins in the early 1960’s.
Although George’s wife Carla, a German refugee, was generous and an impeccable housekeeper, her cooking left something to be desired—taste. We didn’t dare complain. Carla had survived unbelievable hardship and she meant well, but how can a person ruin hamburgers?
The summer I turned fifteen, Mom had dental surgery. Granting her request to be left alone, Dad took me to our favorite getaway for an overnight.
It was dark when he woke me. “There’s a great diner around the corner.”
Alas, Carla stood at the foot of the stairs, platter in hand. “Guten morgen!”
“Pancakes?” Dad’s stomach let out an audible whimper. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Nonsense. I should let my guests leave hungry?”
What’s the German word for ‘cowhide?’
It takes a real talent to ruin hamburgers AND pancakes. Loved the voice in this sweet story. Dad’s stomach’s protest is priceless 😀
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Dear Karen,
In this case fact is more profound than fiction. 😉 My father made his living cooking so it was particularly difficult for him. Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Loved the ‘audible whimper’. Cowhide pancakes sound wonderful! Well done, Rochelle.
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Dear Sandra,
You wouldn’t believe what Carla could do to even iced tea. I don’t think it’s supposed to be yellow. 😉 I do remember those pancakes like it happened yesterday.
Thank you for your sweet comments.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Yum, yum. Shoe leather pancakes. Wait a minute……I’ll pass. I think all of us could tell a similar story. Good job.
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Dear Jan,
There are some who will never get the finer art of cooking, aren’t there? Thank you
Love,
Rochelle
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Hmmmm….Carolyn suddenly came to mind. 😉
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Great story. I was thinking about the dental surgeon… Miles Davis’s father, maybe? Thanks for the excellent prompt idea this week.
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Dear J Hardy,
Don’t remember the oral surgeon’s name in Mom’s case. 😉 When I suggested St. Louis, I really didn’t have a particular story in mind. I love it when they just come like that.
Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Thanks for the location this week, Rochelle. A lovely family tale here, I can just see them all politely eating with forced smiles and compliments to the cook!
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Dear Iain,
Funny, when I chose St. Louis, I had something else in mind. But when I saw the old neighborhoods my muse took me back to George and Carla’s house. Glad you enjoyed the story without being subjected to the menu. 😉
Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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My grandma died before I was born so when we visited the old neighborhood, my Grandpa or one of my aunts did the cooking. The only food I remember was Grandpa’s oxtail soup. I really liked it.
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Dear James,
I was never sure why Carla’s cooking was so bad. As much as we loved to visit them, mealtimes were something to be dreaded. Lucky for you your grandpa could cook. 😉 Thank you for coming by.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Snorting laughter – cowhide! Love it! About like my Gr. Grandmother’s fry bread. you could use it to kill small game. LOL! 🙂 ❤ still laughing.
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Dear Jelli,
Happy to make you snort. 😉 ❤ I always wondered how Carla's husband and kids could stand it. But they never seemed to mind. Thank you. 😀
Shalom,
Rochelle
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That was more than a chuckle that escaped my mouth! Poor Carla. I guess it would be difficult to try and let a person know their cooking sucks. We had a neighbour like that. She could barely boil water. Being invited for dinner (thankfully, a rare occurence), we always hoped Mr. D. would cook and not Mrs. D….
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Dear Dale,
I’m glad my story got laughs from you. (Did you snort your coffee? 😮 )
I will never forget how we tried to leave early to escape being the victims of culinary homicide. Bless her heart, Carla was a sweet a woman as ever lived. But…
Thank you for sharing your story. I’m not sure why there are some who just never quite get it. I have a sister in law who has the same “knack”.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Almost! Luckily my mouth was not full!
Yes, there are those who just can’t…hmmm some of them we find between the pages of a book…😉
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Oh yeah! How could I forget Oxana…who just happened to have had a lot of influence from Carla. 😉
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😁
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Rochelle! This is a hoot. I love it, truly. Mozel tov. (May I say that?)
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Dear Lish,
If you’re congratulating me on the story Mazel tov is perfectly appropriate. 😉 In the case of Carla’s prowess in the kitchen it’s “oy yoy.” Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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The story! not the cooking! 🙂
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😃❤💜😆
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Hey there Rochelle! I found your blog today, and I’m nominating you for That’s So Jacob’s March Blog Madness! It’s simple: find five interesting blogs today, copy and paste this comment, and give them a follow! Have a great day and if you’re so inclined, kindly come visit me over at http://www.thatssojacob.wordpress.com. Have fun spreading the blog love this month!
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Dear Jacob,
Thank you for the nod, but I’ll have to pass.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Pass what?
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I will pass on March Blog Madness.
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Ha ha…Schuhleder. Good one! 😁
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Dear Margarisa,
Not something I’d want to eat. 😉 Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Haha – loved this little snippet from your childhood. 😀
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I’m glad you enjoyed, Dahlia. 😀 Thank you.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Funny story, Rochelle. She was possibly one of the few German immigrants to be a bad cook. I had a German immigrant aunt who was a great cook. She taught both her daughters to be great cooks. Germans opened restaurants in Ohio and the food was delicious. My mother was part German, learned from a cookbook, and was still a good cook. Great writing as always. 😀 — Suzanne
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Dear Suzanne,
I’m not sure why that ability skipped Carla. She was a sweet lady, but her cooking…not so much. 😉 Thank you for coming by. Don’t forget the bicarbonate.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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