Ah, Mrs. Bruntjen, my beloved high school home ec teacher. One of the most cheerful and patient women I have ever known. It's been 35 years or so since I was a freshman in her home economics class and I still feel bad for being such a pain in the you-know-what. I remember how she taught us to thread a sewing machine, and I think I cried everyday while muddling through our first basic assignment: sewing place mats and napkins for an eight piece place setting. I remember later that semester too, when she ripped out the crooked seam on my homemade vest and helped me sew it back together properly just a few hours before our Future Homemakers of America style show. Thanks to Mrs. B., I didn't go out on the stage looking like a complete dork (just a dork). As you might imagine, the cooking portion of the semester did not come easily to me either, but my domestic awkwardness was less obvious since we worked in groups. I volunteered for things like grocery shopping and dish washing; those kinds of chores were right up my alley.
Let's face it, everyone knows that my sister, Susan, ranks right up there with Martha Stewart and my other sister, Nancy, has this cool knack for home decorating and arranging things. Even my brothers turned out better than me. Joe makes a mean pot roast with gravy and all the trimmings, and brother Bob, known as the Kitchen Bit--, is popular on Facebook and often shares his recipes and cooking tips with everyone. As for me, over the years I have managed to learn to cook a few things (okay, there's five) for special occasions, but I've just never really caught on to whole domestic concept. Our Mom was a wonderful cook and I have great memories of the special dishes that she used to make. I've often wondered what Jon might someday say about my cooking. "Oh boy, my mom made a mean grilled cheese. Ummmm ummm. And did you see her crank open that can of tomato soup? She was a whiz in the kitchen."
Anyway, back to Mrs. B. It turns out that she was in New York City for a girls' trip with her daughter and granddaughter. When Mrs. B texted me, they were visiting with her high school classmate, Elissa Lebeck, who was born in Harvel and has lived in Manhattan for over fifty years. We texted back and forth for a few minutes and Mrs. B. explained that they were in town for a very short visit and it was their last night in the city. I was so excited to hear from her that all of the sudden I blurted out a text: "Too bad you're not staying longer, I would invite you across the Hudson for a visit to New Jersey."
As soon as I hit send, my knees became weak and sweat formed on my brow. OMG, I thought, what would I do if she said yes, and my high school home ec teacher was actually coming to my house for a visit? I began to panic. I had visions of Mrs. B's flight being cancelled, and could see her at Penn Station hopping on the first train headed west. I heard a train whistle at the station a block from our house and I felt dizzy, my mind was racing. What would I serve? Do I have enough matching dishes? What about utensils? Is there dust in the refrigerator vent? How do I get that stain out of the tablecloth? Do I even have a tablecloth? I would be forced to cook all five of my special occasion dishes at the same time. That means there would be lasagna, Texas Potatoes, pink salad (with cottage cheese and marshmallows), miniature cherry cheesecakes, and of course my specialty at all holiday family get-togethers: frozen corn. This stuff doesn't even go together. What would she think?
Well, it turned out that I did not actually get to see Mrs. B. and her family during this visit, however, she did teach me another valuable lesson after all these years: always be sure to keep the number of a good caterer handy just in case your high school home ec teacher comes for a visit. I'll be ready for you next time, Mrs. B.!
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I searched through my photos to try to find a picture from my home ec days but had no luck finding one, so I'm sharing this photo of the Boys Home Economics class at Raymond High School that was taken in the late 1930's, before Mrs. B's time. My dad, Charlie Bandy is the back row, fifth from the left. If you know any of the other people in the photo, please let me know.
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