Good to the Last Drop...Or So the Label Says...

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In my mind's eye, I can picture my grandmother, Sally Lou, sitting at her kitchen table drinking her usual pot of morning coffee. She would then fix me some cheese eggs and bacon once I had woken up some. I never forget her homemade biscuits as well. My grandmother could prepare some biscuits and they were ready to come out of the oven in 10 minutes. She made it look so very easy! I can make a big mess trying to fix homemade biscuits these days.

Vestiges of the Old South...

El would stop by to eat breakfast as well. El was a tall gangling elderly man who always smelled very strongly of underarm odor. He called me baby as well. You could hear him walking up to the house with his wooden cane tapping on the driveway. The whole town had built him a small house and helped see about him. My grandmother's duty just was to give him a good start to his day. El couldn't sit at the kitchen table with us, though. He would sit on a stool in front of a corner kitchen counter. He also had his own mason jar to drink tea from and would also have his own plate and tableware. These would be washed thoroughly and put in their special place in the kitchen cabinet ready for El's next breakfast.

Morning Beckons...

I woke up this morning to the smell of coffee wafting in my bedroom from the kitchen. It reminded me of all the breakfasts my grandmother had served me over the years. I had set the timer on the coffee pot for 8:30 AM. My only lament it that coffee doesn't taste nearly as good as it smells. I load up my coffee with a dairy hazelnut coffee creamer to make it more palatable. My breakfast was toasted raisin bread smeared with peanut butter.