{"id":135617,"date":"2023-09-02T19:54:33","date_gmt":"2023-09-02T23:54:33","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=135617"},"modified":"2023-09-02T19:55:27","modified_gmt":"2023-09-02T23:55:27","slug":"11-16","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2023\/09\/11-16\/","title":{"rendered":"My Mother&#8217;s Potato Masher #11"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-135904 alignnone\" src=\"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher-219x300.jpg\" alt=\"\" width=\"305\" height=\"418\" srcset=\"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher-219x300.jpg 219w, https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher-747x1024.jpg 747w, https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher-768x1053.jpg 768w, https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher-1121x1536.jpg 1121w, https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/potato-masher.jpg 1314w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 305px) 100vw, 305px\" \/><\/pre>\n<pre>My mother's mashed potatoes were perfect.\r\nSmooth, creamy with just the \r\nright ratio of milk and butter to potato. She\r\nalso had the perfect \r\npotato masher. The smashing part \r\nwas metal with a red wooden \r\nhandle that just\r\nfit your hand. \r\n\r\nWhen I furnished my first kitchen, I tried using \r\na blender. No good. I found a smaller \r\nversion of my mother's\r\nmasher, which worked but gave \r\nout eventually. \r\n\r\nMy mother died and I inherited \r\nthe red handled masher.\r\nFor years I was able to make perfect mashed \r\npotatoes. A combination of age and too much time\r\nin dishwater loosened the handle\r\nand off it came. \r\n\r\nMy husband bought a new one, black plastic\r\nwith holes to smash the \r\npotatoes through. Disappointment.\r\n\r\nI looked in his work area to find the parts\r\nof the masher for this poem. I found\r\nit glued back together! If it's as strong as\r\nit seems, mashed potatoes for dinner tomorrow!<\/pre>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My mother&#8217;s mashed potatoes were perfect. Smooth, creamy with just the right ratio of milk and butter to potato. She also had the perfect potato masher. The smashing part was metal with a red wooden handle that just fit your hand. When I furnished my&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1210,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[11,1136],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-135617","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-half-marathon-poem","category-official-marathon-prompts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135617","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1210"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=135617"}],"version-history":[{"count":11,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135617\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":136380,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/135617\/revisions\/136380"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=135617"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=135617"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=135617"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}