The Straley Family







Hello and Welcome to Nanny Goat Primitives' Blog! I am looking forward to sharing bits and pieces about my primitive adventures with you! Brew a cup of steaming hot tea and make yourself at home.




Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Grammy Byberg’s Peanut Butter Cookies

Grammy Byberg’s Peanut Butter Cookies

¼ cup shortening
¼ cup butter (softened)
½ cup peanut butter
½ cup sugar
½ cup brown sugar
1 egg

1¼ cups flour
½ teaspoon baking powder
¾ teaspoon baking soda
¼ teaspoon salt

Extra sugar for coating cookie dough balls

Preheat oven to 375 degrees

In a large mixing bowl, combine shortening, butter, peanut butter, sugar, brown sugar and egg. Mix thoroughly until smooth. Slowly add the dry ingredients.

Roll cookie dough into balls about the size of a large walnut. Roll each ball in sugar and place about 3 inches apart on a lightly greased cookie sheet.

Bake 11 minutes until set but not hard. Makes about 3 dozen, 2 ½ inch cookies.

The Mystery Child

In my family tree, there runs a line of romantic, volatile Spanish blood. No one knows where she came from, but the repercussions of her long ago arrival are still felt very strongly by many members of my family.

On a warm fall day in October of 1869 in Wayne County, Missouri, Thomas Medders was tending his horses when he found a beautiful little Spanish girl around four or five years of age. The poor girl was wandering around, lost, in his horse pasture. She couldn’t say where she came from or who her parents were. She only knew her name, Maria Cordoba. No one ever came looking for her, so Thomas and his wife Tabitha Elizabeth, took her in and raised her as one of their own children. They called her Mary Medders. The rest of the family hated her. This hatred sprang from the same foul source that so many southerners found within themselves in pre-civil war times; a hatred which enabled them to suppress anyone with dark skin.



William Henry Reed holding daughter Emily. Mary (Maria) Cordoba Medders Reed holding daughter Cora around 1886.


In February of 1883, Mary married William Henry Reed. William Henry adored her and together, they had four daughters, Emily Cordoba (my great grandmother), Cora Melverda, Clara Ellen and Margaret Henrietta. Poor Mary became ill after the birth of Margaret and suffered miserably for the next ten years. She left this world in July of 1903 at the age of 37. Her beloved William Henry placed a lovely headstone on her grave. He visited her grave until the end of his days.

Their oldest daughter, Emily, was always conscious of her dark hair, dark eyes and dark skin. She was ashamed of her Spanish blood and never ventured outdoors without long sleeves and a wide brimmed hat. Emily never uttered her middle name. Emily never discussed her mother and no one dared to broach the subject.

In the mid to late 1960’s, one of Emily’s daughters, Laura Henrietta (nee Brown) Morrow showed her youngest sister Pauline (my grandmother) and her niece, Dorothy (my mother) the Reed Family Bible that she brought back from Missouri after Emily’s death in 1958. Both my grandmother and mother were saddened to see that someone had long ago scratched Maria Cordoba’s name out of the Family Bible. My grandmother knew in her heart that it was probably Emily who did this callous act. The Reed Family Bible has since disappeared.

In 2004, I traveled to Wayne County, Missouri to meet some of my Reed relatives, relatives that descended from William Henry Reed’s second wife. I learned from an Arkansas cousin that Mary was buried in Lowndes Cemetery, in Wayne County. She also told me that many years earlier, someone had removed her headstone. The cemetery is no longer active and the burial records were lost many years ago. If I ever learn where in the Lowndes Cemetery that my dear great-great grandmother is buried, I and many others in the family will place another marker on her grave.

I cannot imagine my great-great grandmother’s pain. Maria Cordoba was abandoned by own family at the age of four or five. She grew up in a hostile household in a prejudiced community. She was despised by her own daughter and erased from the family after her death. God rest her soul.

Sweet Potato Casserole Recipe

Sweet Potato Casserole (Perfect for Thanksgiving!)

Casserole Ingredients:
3 cups cooked sweet potatoes (or 3 ~16 oz. cans)
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup brown sugar
2 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla
½ stick butter

Topping Ingredients:
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup chopped pecans
½ stick butter
½ cup flour

Casserole Instructions:

Heat sweet potatoes until warm. Drain. Blend in mixer (or food processor) until somewhat creamy. Add all other casserole ingredients and stir together. Place in a buttered dish.

Topping Instructions:

Melt better. Place all topping ingredients into a mixing bowl and stir. Spread over casserole. Bake at 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes.

This dish can be prepared the night before. Just put the topping on top of the casserole the next day and bake. Enjoy!

The Teddy Bear

The Teddy Bear
by Nanny Goat Primitives

It was a warm August morning in Texas. The day promised to be a scorcher. I fed our cat, Scratches, and spent the next hour or so weeding the flower beds, filling the bird feeders and enjoying our yard. The early morning was always that special, quiet time of day where I dared to dream or solved the world’s problems or simply planned the day.

I slipped quietly back inside to enjoy my first cup of coffee and a crossword puzzle from the morning paper; a habit I learned at my father’s knee. He always said working the puzzles staved off Alzheimer’s. I wondered for a brief moment if he was working on the same puzzle in Colorado. Perhaps he was having better luck than I.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed seven o’clock. Rob would be up soon.

We were planning on running a few errands in town and then we were off to our favorite antique store. A few weeks before, Rob spotted a set of antique bookends for $50 that he really wanted but left the store without them. If they were still there that afternoon, he was going to buy them.

Rob stumbled into the kitchen, mumbled an unintelligible good morning and slumped into his chair. I set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and watched the transformation. Without coffee, the man’s knuckles would drag the ground.

The antique store opened at noon and we arrived just as the weekend staff was unlocking the doors. The back of the store was still dark and air conditioner has already humming.

Rob disappeared into the darkness in hopes of finding his treasure.

I stopped at a booth about halfway down the aisle and admired a beautiful Hoosier cabinet. The booth was filled with all sorts of kitchen gadgets from the 1920’s and 1930’s. The upper cabinet was intentionally left open revealing a set of colorful Pyrex bowls just like the ones my grandmother had in her kitchen. Draped over the door were some pretty embroidered tea towels and a green gingham apron. Atop an old wooden ironing board was a beautiful Grandmother’s Flower Garden quilt sewn completely by hand out of old flour sacks.

I was about to leave when I spotted old aluminum washtub in the corner filled with castoffs. I found things like hand crocheted doilies with holes in them, stained dresser scarves, ratty quilts and other less than pristine linens from yesterday. Intrigued by the quilt, I pulled it out to inspect it more closely. I decided that for $20, the old quilt was coming home with me. I was refolding the quilt when I saw him.

There, in the pile of castoffs, was a small, well worn teddy bear. The faded price tag read $10. He spoke to me and I knew we were destined to be together. A child from long ago loved him very much. He was bald in spots. One of his eyes was missing and the other hung from a lone strand of black cotton thread. He had been mended many times, each time with a different color of thread. His right arm had been sewn back on in a clumsy sort of way. His sweet little head sat on his body at a haphazard angle.

Rob had found his treasured bookends, paid for them, put them in the car and was wondering where in the world I was. Rob found me sitting crossed legged on the floor in the corner of that booth enchanted with my “new” little friend. We paid for the quilt and my teddy bear. He sat on my lap for the drive home. We’ve been together for more than twenty years.

Daddy died of colon cancer on a cold December day a few years later and my little companion was there to dry so many of the tears I cried. He was there to welcome my two of babies I brought home from the hospital and to say goodbye to the one that didn’t. My children have played with him and I imagine my grandchildren will play with him too. I often wonder if that child from long ago yearns to hold him just one more time. He’s a part of our life.

He’s balder now. I mended his good eye but there’s still a hole in the place of the other that he lost long ago. His arm is still crooked and his head is still off center. In my heart, he is perfect just the way he is.

To me, that is what primitives (old and the not so old) are all about. They touch your heart and become part of who you are.

Grammy Byberg's Ginger Snap Cookies

Grammy Byberg's Ginger Snap Cookies
submitted by Nanny Goat Primitives
1 1/2 Cups Crisco
2 Cups Sugar
2 Large Eggs
2 Teaspoons Pure Vanilla Extract
1/2 Cup Molasses
4 Cups All-Purpose Flour
4 Teaspoons Baking Soda
3 Teaspoons Ground Cinnamon
2 1/2 Teaspoons Ground Nutmeg
1/2 Teaspoon Ground Cloves
2 Teaspoons Ground Ginger
2 Teaspoons Salt

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
In a large mixing bowl, cream together the Crisco and sugar. Add the eggs, vanilla and molasses. Mix these well. Slowly add the flour, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, ginger and salt to the molasses mixture.
Roll the dough into one inch balls and dip in a bowl of sugar.
Place the balls onto an ungreased cookie sheet and bake for about 10 minutes.
Store in an airtight container to maintain freshness.
These cookies freeze very well. Makes 6 - 8 dozen cookies.