Lloyding It

For their 50th wedding anniversary, telling us kids that they were spending our inheritance, my folks chartered three busses and took their kids, friends, and relations on a three-day tour of northern Arizona.  We visited the Grand Canyon, the Painted Desert, the Petrified Forest, and Sunset Crater.

For breakfast, we pulled into a rest area and dined on day-old sweet rolls (with raisins) and glasses of pineapple/grapefruit juice—the standard breakfast fare back when our family of seven kids went on long road trips.

At dinner my oldest sister, Janice, stood up and told the group that our father was always a good provider, but he wasn’t good at holding a job.  She then went on to recount all the jobs he had held over the years—teacher, farmer, underground miner, truck driver, carpenter, construction company owner, and finally a life insurance salesman.

His partner in the construction business was a guy named Lloyd Coon.  Lloyd, and his wife, Lois, were from Iowa.  Brought up on Midwest farms, both my mother and Lois were used to taking midmorning snacks to the farm hands out in the fields.  When Lloyd and my dad ran the construction company, my mother and Lois took turns providing forenoon coffee to their work crew.

Lloyd and Lois were also good friends, and our families spent many mealtimes together at our house or theirs.

So today, as I was baking my pumpkin pie, I was thinking about Lloyd Coon.

As I mentioned last week, my mother’s pumpkin pies were top drawer.  And when Lloyd and Lois came for pumpkin pie, it was always served on the blue-bubble dishes my folks received as a wedding present.

One night, Evie dished up the pie and then set one piece in front of Lloyd and one in front of my father.  Lloyd immediately whipped a measuring tape out of his pocket and measured the two pieces to make sure my father’s piece wasn’t bigger than his.

To this day, whenever I pour glasses of wine or milk, I always move them side by side to make sure both glasses contain the same amount.

We call that “Lloyding it,” and now you know why.

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving.

30 thoughts on “Lloyding It

  1. What a fun memory, Judy. And one that no one else will have except for your family. It’s the little stories like that which make our lives unique. Belated Happy Thanksgiving to you & Bill.

  2. That brought a smile to my face. My brother and I did that when we were younger. But we both grew out of it and realized we got what we actually wanted.
    Hope you and Bill had a nice Thanksgiving.

  3. The “Lloyd” story is very funny. FYI my hobby is pie-making & I have a recipe for a pecan cream pie (if you are interested) originally provided by a lady who went through the Holocaust.

  4. What a great memory. Hope your Thanksgiving this year also provided memories for your family.

  5. As the youngest in a house full of brothers and sisters growing up in the 40s and 50s, my mother couldn’t always do “Lloyding” to be certain I got my share of treats. So when buying candy for all of us, she always bought me Lifesavers, because she knew the first thing I would do is spit down the middle of the Lifesaver tube, thus making it highly unlikely a brother of sister would steal it from me.

    • Terry, I never thought of that. A great idea. My sister and I were the first two of five who came 10 years later. We got Tootsie Rolls, but didn’t have to share..

  6. That is one of the best “family tradition” stories I’ve ever heard/read! Lloyd lives on forever!

    I’d love to know more about the big bus trip.

    And… Thank you for fixing the email thing. I got my link this morning.

  7. Great story. We all have wonderful memories of the past some were related at our thanksgiving table yesterday.
    Happy Holidays , Judy and Bill.
    Jack Vogel

  8. I always enjoy your memories, JA. We had a very nice Thanksgiving. Hope yours was good, too. As bad as life can be sometimes, there is still much to be thankful for.

    Thx for the blog/internet fix.

  9. Wonderful memories. And thanks for your email. My library ladies were thrilled. Posted my picture on their website with your book. Julia Hull Library, Stillman Valley Illinois.

  10. I’m love it!! My husband Larry and best friend Gary always compare their piece of pie or cake we cut them. Us wives were both Debbie’s so we were so close we just called us Debbie and Glarry.

  11. Your blog makes me smile. It is so real. I’m a Beaumont fan but the Az connection is getting my attention too.Smiles. ???

  12. Happy post Thanksgiving J, wonderful story, and because you let the cat out of the bag, I’m “borrowing” the phrase “Lloyding it”, and will use it if I see any perpetrator attempting to take advantage of beverages.

  13. When my son and daughter were young and had to share something, one would cut it in half and the other one got to choose their part first …never an argument –

  14. Growing up I had two older brothers – when my mother served her wonderful lemon meringue pie after Sunday dinner, my dad used to use the table knife to measure that my brothers got equal portions. Your story brings me back — my oldest brother just passed at age 96.
    Mairlyn Ragle

  15. Great story. I’ve never made pumpkin pie with milk–always use evaporated milk. However, I’m going to try your Betty Crocker recipe

  16. In my family – three kids. One of us poured of cut portions for all three of us. Then whoever cut last time got to choose his portion first , then the one who didn’t c portion last and finally the one who got the leftover piece. Those portions were always as exactly equal as kids could cut or pour. But the were never any arguments. We know we could get even next time!

  17. I think all of us who grew up with brothers and sisters have stories to tell. My late husband grew up as an only child and missed the fun. He didn’t know about splitting an Oreo in two and eating the middle frosting before eating the two chocolate cookies. His mother had never bought Oreos.

  18. Funny! My father always grew great raspberries (1940-ish) And to special people he shared a “picking” . Friend, Art Bryson had been asking , so Papa gave him a date and he showed up and picked….As he was finishing up, Papa went out to check on his progress, and said “Art, you are picking all the green ones, too!” Art chuckled and said “Oh, I like ’em tart!”. Papa said, “Art, you get out of here right now! You’ve picked the rest of the season’s berries.” So even now the great grandchildren know what “Bryson berries” mean and carefully pick only the ripe ones! We still have raspberry bushes from Papa’s original patch.

  19. What a fun story and read. Thank you again for sharing these .
    Hope your family had a happy Thanksgiving and everyone got their equal share 🙂

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