The Rest of The Story.....

(my mother, Jerri)

I posted this as my status update on Facebook earlier this evening~

Feeding time once again at the C. house, organ night ~YUCK! Not my favorite meal of this raw feeding diet, I HATE liver, but the dogs love it & they need it sooo...

Followed with this comment~

if you hear gagging, that would be me, the smell is disgusting! EEEWWW

Now since then, I've had a number of comments about what others feed their dogs and a few emails telling me they LOVE liver or asking me why don't I like liver? Any self-respecting southern girl loves liver and onions. Well, let me tell you, yes I was born in the south and I do live in the south now, and I do consider myself a southern girl BUT, I was raised in the DC area, not quite far enough north to qualify as a Yankee, but far enough to have grown up in a different culture than the culture here in my beloved Tennessee hills. So I guess you could call me a transplanted, somewhat northern, southern girl with a few northern habits and even more southern *traditions*

Now, my reason for this post? Well like the title says, I'm going to give you The Rest of The Story "Why I can't stand liver" The answer is really pretty simple, it makes me sick to my stomach, literally. There are no amount of onions in this state to cover up that horrible smell or taste, it's. still. liver. I don't care what you cover it with, and trust me, I've tried it all.


My wonderful mother was always a southern woman at heart. She raised my sister and I by herself, yet still managed to work a full-time job as a Deli Manager, keep a roof over our heads, keep clothes on our back and food in our belly. She managed to cook supper for us most nights. She managed to give us wonderful holiday memories and she instilled alot of those "southern traditions" into both of us.

(circa 1979, L-R~my sister, Mom, me & my baby brother in the back)

One of those "southern traditions" she stuck to for as long as I can remember.....liver and onions every Friday night!!! I HATED it!! I hated to see Friday come. I thought of all kinds of ways to be out of the house or eat at a friend's house, or be sick or whatever, so long as I could get out of eating that blasted liver! Most times, it didn't work. I cried, I begged, I pleaded, I sat there refusing to eat, (which I found out VERY quickly was the worst thing to do, I still had to eat it, only by then it was cold!) *insert gag* I covered it with ketchup, I covered it with A-1 Sauce, Worcester sauce, Soy sauce, I think one time I even tried to make a sandwich out of it complete with the mayo on 2 slices of bread (don't try it, that was pretty awful) Mom wouldn't budge, I was eating that liver one way or another and if I made it worse by adding all that junk to it, then so be it. I would throw up every time I ate the stuff, every single time! It literally made me sick to my stomach!

Finally it got to the point that Mom would say "Eat it or take a whipping" well, you guessed it, I took the whipping. For the longest time, can't even remember how long to be honest, maybe 6-8 months, I took a whipping every Friday night rather than eat that liver!

I'll give y'all a minute to quit giggling........

ok, finished??

One day, many years later I brought Jake to Mom's and we were going to stay the weekend with her, we got there on Friday afternoon. Guess what was for supper?? Yep, liver. I smelled it the minute I opened the front door! I remember I started gagging as soon as I smelled it and I told her I would just go back home, let Jake stay the night and come back in the morning, I can't stand that smell. She rolled her eyes and said "Oh fer cryin out loud, yer gonna stand there and tell me yer gonna get sick on yer stomach if you stay? You ain't no kid anymore, yer 28 years old and I promise I ain't gonna whip you if you don't eat it"

She rolled her eyes and muttered something else I couldn't understand, but I told her "Mom I really can't stand the smell, it really does make me sick, my stomach is churning just smelling it. Now if you want it that's fine, if Jake wants some that's fine, but I can't eat it!"

I will never forget the look on her face when I said that and I will never forget what she said next..... "You mean to tell me I whipped you all those Friday nights and you were tellin the truth? It really WAS makin you sick on yer stomach??"

I told her yes, I wasn't faking it, I wasn't just being a bratty kid, I really did get sick eating it. Her answer..... "well I swan, I'm sorry I whipped you, but you shoulda told me you really was gettin sick" Then she busted out laughing! Probably because my mouth was hanging open with my lower lip somewhere down around my knees!

Telling that story now makes me smile, remembering the look on her face and that sly little grin she would give, makes me smile. I miss my mother horribly, more today than ever, but I don't miss that Friday night liver!

Now I leave you with a picture of what brought all this up to begin with, the bowls, filled with liver on a previous liver night at the C. house. Yes, I was gagging as I fixed it and my stomach was churning while I was standing over it smelling it, but I made it through once again.

For those wondering, my sister hates liver as much as I do, but she would eat hers, sometimes she would cry about it, just like I did, but she ate her liver and never *took the whipping*

My brother who was raised by my uncle, loves liver, go figure.