The pantry in my Grandmama’s house was a treasure cave. It joined the kitchen and the dining room, with swinging doors at each entrance. Inside the pantry were shelves on three walls reaching all the way to the 14-foot ceiling.[cointent_lockedcontent]

And on those shelves were rows and rows of fruit jars filled with vegetable soup, asparagus, green beans, tomatoes, peaches, pickles and jellies. Big bags of sugar and flour were kept on the bottom shelves next to stores of other kitchen necessities.

Against one wall stood a pie safe where pies and cakes were stored for family get-togethers and a sturdy table used for meat cutting and other food-prep functions.

In the fall after hog killing, the table would be scoured and returned to the pantry in readiness for the next project.

The fat links of sausage hung in the smokehouse, and the last ham had been prepared for curing.

It was time to make the fruit cakes. Everyone in the household was involved in this. As Grandmama always said, “Many hands make light the work.”

Grandchildren were a source of free labor, and we were set to the task of cracking pecans and picking out the meats. This was demanding work, as it was vital that no bits of bitter shell should be mixed in with the nut meats.

There were always two huge fruit cakes to be assembled. One was Mama’s favorite, a white fruit cake. Uncle Walter and Matt preferred the dark fruit cake.

The white fruit cake had golden raisins and slivered almonds, and the dark one had dark raisins and pecans. Sultanas, citron and different candied fruits like pineapple and cherries were used.

The huge crockery bowls would come out, dozens of eggs would be separated, and the process of slicing, dicing, chopping, beating and whipping would go into high gear.

The heavy metal tube pans would be brought out. Children were good for tearing off sections of waxed paper, setting the pans on the paper and for drawing around the bottom of the pans and inside the circular tube to get a perfect fit. The sides, bottoms and tubes were thoroughly greased with Crisco, the wax paper circle was carefully pressed in the bottom and then the paper itself was greased.

All the candied fruits would be coated with flour and folded into the stiff batter. This took muscle, and Uncle Walter or Matt would do this.

Then the batters would be poured into the pans, and into the oven they’d go.

After about an hour and a half of baking, the cakes would be pulled out and a long, clean broom straw would be inserted into the cake. If no crumbs clung to it when the straw was withdrawn, the cake was judged done and removed to cool.

There were large round tin containers waiting for the cakes.

Each tin would have a clean dishcloth laid in the bottom. The cooled cakes would be turned into the cake tins, wine would be dribbled by the tablespoon over the cakes, and then they’d be wrapped with the dish towel and the lids would be snapped into place.

And then, for the next few weeks before Christmas, the process of wine dribbled across the cake would be repeated at regular intervals. The cakes had to ripen before they were sliced. The slices had to be thin and when held to the light appear translucent.

We always thought sliced fruit cake looked like stained glass windows. It was part of the ritual approaching Christmas, and even now just seeing a picture of a real fruit cake brings it all back. I’m thankful to have the memory of that special time.[/cointent_lockedcontent]

Editorialists and commentators have chastised the South Carolina legislature relentlessly for failing to get anything done during the 2015 session. In fact, though, they did plenty of work.[cointent_lockedcontent]

This year our Legislature met from January to July, and during that time 1,336 bills were filed between the House and Senate. Of those, 131 were passed by lawmakers. In addition, 950 resolutions were filed, and all but 64 of those passed.

The question, of course, is this: How many of these were actually worth legislators spending over half a year in Columbia?

The length of South Carolina’s legislative session has consequences. Studies have found that professional, full-time legislatures are more prone to pressure from lobbyists — and this translates into higher spending and more favors for special interests.

Consider this year’s attempt to deal with roads. There are two ways to devote new revenue to roads: raise taxes or cut spending. But lobbyists — in this case, lobbyists working for companies and industries that would benefit from additional spending on roads — aren’t going to urge lawmakers to pay for new road projects by cutting other parts of government. They’re going to urge tax hikes. And thanks to South Carolina’s long legislative session, they had plenty of time to do it. In the end, thanks to citizen groups raising the alarm, they weren’t successful. That’s a rarity, unfortunately, and tax hike supporters are sure to be back in January.

According to one media account, toward the end of session legislative leaders even tried to prevent the Board of Economic Advisers from publicizing a revenue surplus, presumably on the grounds that a surplus would undermine the argument for a tax hike. That simply couldn’t have happened without a lengthy session.

Or take ethics reform. The year began with a few good proposals, but the longer they sat in committees, the longer lawmakers had to water them down or amend them with insidious provisions. A bill to reform the state’s Freedom of Information law gained a provision allowing government agencies to take citizens to court for filing “frivolous” FOIA requests. A bill to require elected officials to disclose their sources of income eventually included a provision loosening requirements on disclosing government income. And so on. The longer the session went on, in other words, the more pointless these bills became.

Or consider the debate over the bond bill. House lawmakers introduced a bill to issue bond debt and use the money for a variety of largely unnecessary projects connected to state colleges and universities. It would have been difficult for lawmakers to pass such a controversial bill within the confines of a short session. As it was, though, they were able to introduce the bill; then take it off the floor when the Policy Council and (separately) the Gov. Haley raised objections; then find ways to pay for the new projects through the General Fund; and then spend much of the rest of the session trying to figure out how to pass the bond bill anyway, which they were almost able to do.

In short: our excessively long session gave the State House complex — lawmakers, lobbyists, consultants, various special interests — plenty of time weaken reform, make tax hikes more likely, and spend every last available dime of revenue.

What should a session-shortening bill look like? A sensible reform would be to mandate an end to sessions by the second Friday in April, making each one last roughly 90 calendar days, and holding session every two years. This would encourage lawmakers to use their time — and our money — more wisely.

Members of the House argue that they pass a bill every session to shorten session but Senate ignores it. That may be technically true, but this year, anyway, the bill they passed was anemically weak. The House of Representatives passed a bill that cut a mere ten days off session. The Senate’s bill would have shortened session by three months. It wasn’t passed, but at least it was worthy of passing.

Our legislature’s job is to ensure that citizens’ rights are protected. After they do that, they should go home. More time leads to more mischief.

Cecilia Brown works as an research assistant at TheNerve.org and its parent organization, the S.C. Policy Council.

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