The Juicy Truth

Mother, Ancle John Emert, Aunt Nannie Emert“Wine” was not a household word or product in our very, Southern Baptist, home!  My father was a Baptist minister who my mother said preached on Hell like he was born and raised there!  Therefore, aside from cough syrup, we never ingested anything with alcoholic content.



My maternal grandmother had a sister named Nannie.  She was a boisterous, and jolly woman.  She had black, curly hair and a big, bright smile, which was infectious.  I loved it when Mother would take us to visit her, because she was very entertaining.  Aunt Nannie loved to brag about herself, which we found funny and amusing, because we were taught that this was a very uncouth thing to do.  She would say things like “When I put on that dress, I look like a living doll!”.  We would laugh and laugh.



Mother would take us to vist Aunt Nannie around Christmas time, because she knew that she would have some homemade fruitcake.  This fruitcake was special because it had been soaked in the family, homemade, blackberry wine.  She would offer us all a slice of the cake but I never tasted it.  I would get so upset that my mother would partake, considering that it had that sinful sauce on it!



Apparently, making blackberry wine had been a family tradition for many years.  My grandmother made it too.  My mother’s sisters, Margaret and Mable, had heard the adults talk about people getting inebriated.  They decided they wanted to see what “inebriated” looked like, so they fed the fab wine to their two-year old sister, Nina.  They had a jolly old time watching her teeter around the house.  Papa and Grandmother were not so amused when they discovered the antic


Aunt Margaret passed away last year at the age of 91 and Aunt Mable is 90.  Aunt Nina is still kicking, too.   Maybe there is something to this antioxidant thing!  As for me, I think I’ll continue with the freshly made grape juice.  Guess I’m still my father’s daughter!

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