My Dad knew how to cook only a couple of things when I was a kid. One of my favorites was Sloppy Jones's, which is what I called them. They were actually Sloppy Joe's, but Dad knew what I meant when I would say, "Daddy, I want Sloppy Jones's." The only time I got tired of them was when I had to eat them for 2 meals, 3 days in a row. For those of you who are interested, here is the recipe:
Hamburger crumbled and fried in Crisco
Add ketchup to hamburger and stir
Pile Sloppy Jones's on whatever bread is handy
I was driving home this evening and saw this darling handmade stove on the curb for trash pick up. I stopped and knocked on the door to ask if I would be okay if I took it. A very kind appearing older man opened the door and said "sure, glad someone else could use it." The nice man happily told me he made it for his daughter and she played with it for years. Once she grew up, the stove spent years in the attic, then went to the curb and now in the back of my car. I wonder what the little girl magically stirred up for her Dad on her little stove. Oh the stories it could tell.