As most people in Jamaica would know, is that Sunday dinners are not complete without a nice big pot of rice and peas. Whether it be gungo peas or red kidney peas, it is the main attraction at any Jamaican dinner table. My Granny took pride in preparing her rice and peas as if she were going to display it at the Horticultural Society. It was an art form for her. I often teased her, questioning whether or not she wanted to receive a gold, silver or a bronze medal for each week's production.

Granny sometimes liked to mix things up by cooking rice and peas on a weekday just to add a little "spice" to life. On one particular day that I remembered, I was spending the day at Granny's house. I must have arrived at the crack of dawn, when she had just placed the pot of red peas to boil. The sun came out and Granny and I were busy under the coolie plum tree, trying to retrieve a basketful of the plums for the table on the verandah. Suddenly the phone rang and it was Granny's Parson on the phone. When Granny got a call from her Parson it was like getting a call from the White House. The length of the call could never be determined, they often prayed on the phone for parishoners and talked about upcoming events as if it were a covert mission they were working on.

I usually got quite bored listening to her go on for a while, that's why it was a good thing that I was busy trying to get bushels of plums for the dessert tray. I must have been outside for sometime when I smelt a foul odor. I couldn't determine exactly what it was, however the underlying scent, was that of burning rubber. After a little while the scent still kept gnawing at me, so I went to investigate. I noticed that Granny was still on the phone......and then I remembered that she was cooking dinner on the stove. I quickly ran to the pantry and there I saw the rice and peas pot smoking till thy kingdom come.

I quickly yelled "Lawd Jesus! Granny come quick, the rice and peas burn up can't done!"

Granny quickly excused herself from the phone and went to examine what was going on.

When Granny entered the kitchen she said, "Yes my love, the rice and peas burn. How that happen to me.....Lord, my mind is so occupied these last few days. I can hardly remember a thing. You know Ms. Mags, I didn't even smell a thing. I caught a draft the other day and I have been so congested. It's a good thing you were here. I'm just so upset that my lovely rice and peas burn up."

I shook my head in sorrow as if I had heard the news of a human being's death.

"Lord, Granny I know, look how you fuss with it all morning, and now the rice and peas bun up ......tsk, tsk, tsk. But Granny the place smell up too."

Granny commented, "I can't smell a thing. Bring me some camphor in a handkerchief, so that I can open up my breathing passages."

I ran quickly and got Granny her cold remedy and she was able to smell the burning stench wreaking through the house.

Granny kept saying, "This never happen to me before, oh Mags! Please go and tell the Parson on the phone that I'll have to talk to him later."

At seven years old, I prided myself at delivering good messages, so I quickly ran to the phone and told the Parson, "Granny's pot is burning and she's trying to put out the flames."

Well, the next thing we knew the Fire Brigade was wailing through the streets of the neighborhood and the Police was knocking at the door.

"Who call the Police?"

"I don't know Granny."

Granny opened the door and the Fire Marshall and his troupe came running in the door with hoses, heading straight for Granny's kitchen. The police told Granny that the Parson from the church was concerned and asked them to have a look at the situation.

Granny said, "Mags, why do you think the Parson was so concerned?"

"Well, I just told him that you couldn't come to the phone because your pot was burning with flames?"

"No wonder. The poor man probably was thinking that the situation was really serious. Officer, we have everything under control. Lord of mercy! If Herbie ever hear about this...."

My Grandfather knew every constable in Jamaica, so it was a matter of time before the news was spread to him via word-of-mouth.

As the Fire Marshals investigated, they told Granny and I that we should go someplace for a few hours and let the house "air out", so that when we went to bed that night the smoke would not poison our system. My grandfather appeared just in time to hear tidbits of the conversation and he was not a happy camper.

"What Police and Fireman doing at my house do eh? I don't want no fuss and confusion here!"

Granny commented, "Herbie we have a situation."

He told Granny, "I am not leaving my house to go make myself uncomfortable someplace else! " V" you better use some moth balls to soak up the scent, but I'm staying right here."

Granny became insistent., "Herbie, the child have asthma and I have a draft, we have to make the house "air out" for a few hours, then we can come back and have a nice dinner later. Come nuh Herbie."

Granny continued coaxing, "I'm going to ask Ms. Quickly to keep a "look see" till we come back later."

In those days, your neighbors were positive helping forces in the community, so it was not rare for a neighbor to look-out for another person's home.

Granny and I packed a few goodies for the day and traveled along with Grandpa to the Inn near the beach.

Grandpa reiterated, "We are only staying for a few hours, so please don't make this a holiday season."

The Inn was quite "lovely", everything was very festive and decorative, especially since it was around Christmas time.

Although, Granny had a few choice remarks of her own, "But see here, is this what I leave my house for? This place is supposed to be five star rated and them have crocus bag decorate up the Christmas tree. No man, they could have at least gone to Woolworth and buy some silver sprinkle."

I tried to calm them both down, but they were not cooperative. One thing about Jamaicans, is that they cherish their home lives, only events worthwhile could get them away from their sanctuaries.

Granny decided we would "wash-up" for lunch, so we proceeded to our suite to get ready.

Believe me when I tell you, that this place was "lovely" but vintage. The Concierge tapped on the door, and then handed us three porcelain basins.

Granny looked at him as if he had just landed from Jupiter.

"Young man, what is this? "

"Oh, we are having some problems with our plumbing, so we have reverted to the old-fashioned days."

Granny looked at him, as if to say, "Are you for real?"

"I haven't used basin since my young girl days in Pedro, and even then, we had nurse-maids to do it for us. This is nonsense man, real nonsense!"

Grandpa chimed in, "That's why I told you, I didn't want to go anywhere, but you wanted to live the Wallace Warfield life. I give you a nice comfortable home. Why did we have to come to this blinkin Inn?"

"Alright Herbie, just calm down, remember the child has asthma."

We managed to get my Grandfather calm and Granny agreed to go along with the theme of being blasted to the past.

We sat down to lunch in a room that was reminiscent of the Napoleonic era. I had not seen that much gold in my life, not even on Mike Tyson. I think they were going for the Renaissance look, however they may have made a wrong turn.

The waiter arrived and took our orders for gungo peas soup and fresh slices of hard dough bread, with three glasses of water.

Granny always told us, when in doubt , order soup, you really can't go wrong. Guess what?

The Inn found a way.

The gungo peas soup tasted more like gazpacho, the hard dough bread was so tough, it tasted like horse crackers, and the water had some whole heap of dregs into it.

Grandpa stood up in the middle of the Cafe and said, "V are you coming? This is trivial nonsense! A man should be able to get a decent meal after a hard day's work. Hold the child's hand and let's go!"

Granny had nothing to say, except "Yes Herbie, we'll be right there."

Our mini siesta had gone terribly wrong just like the pot of rice and peas.

If there was anything I learned from the experience with my Grandparents, it would be, that a "man's" home is his castle and like a Captain on a ship, no matter what transpires, you gotta stay with the ship. It was then I learned the true meaning of the phrase, "There is no place like home".

At home, you can get what you want, how you want it and when you want it. The rest of the world is not usually willing to accomodate your needs and requests. That's why your own personal home is always the best!