Thanks for the memories that keep on reliving themselves!

Good Friday morning to you. It is already June 8, 2012, and as they say, time is marching on. Maybe that's the noise I hear outside. It's time stomping on its merry way. It could be that light rain falling for which I am so thankful. Have you noticed that I am a nostalgic person? I hope not overly so but I do love connecting up with some wonderful memories of those good old days. My wife can help in that area. She is like a time machine. The other evening I came in from work and my walk down memory lane was ready to plate. She had brought back some fresh picked purple hull peas from her Louisiana visit. She had fried up some okra. She had kernel corn. A huge pone of iron skillet cornbread. Sliced tomatoes. And, also some of my wife's sister's homemade pepper sauce ready to splash over these delicacies. Big glass of iced tea and I was ready to do me some time travel. Yum yum. That back door could just have easily opened up to my Granny Mac's kitchen, or my mom's, or my wife's mom. They tell us that if you use a small plate that will help to control the portion. Because of the historic nature of this meal and my respect for all those throughout my lifetime who have labored in providing similar culinary delights, I chose something a little closer to a serving platter. What about my diabetes? You must have missed the part about the time travel. I was in a place before I ever knew about the diabetes. See there. You learn something if you pay attention. It was so-oooo good! Thanks Sweetheart for making it so special.

The only bad thing about those enjoyable times is how they end and then it's back to the real world. I am not fanatical in my diabetic dietary control effort but I do try to read labels and watch my levels and all that razzmatazz. I will tell you that this effort each day is not something I would wish on anyone, including myself. But, compared to what other folks face each day it's not anything for me to be complaining about. I forgot one thing. The dessert. You know after a meal like that you wouldn't want to leave that off. It was grand. It too was delightful. I know you want to hear about it. Right? Well, it was something I try not to do very often but the occasion seemed right, therefore, I thought, why not? I moved my chair away from the table. Went to the kitchen cabinet and found me a small mug. I went over to the stove top and pulled off a handful of that perfectly cooked cornbread. I opened up the fridge and took out the milk. I drizzled and sloshed some over that still warm bread and then I took a spoon and enjoyed every bite. My wife asked if what I was doing was what I was doing. I know it is a little confusing but I knew exactly what she was saying. She was verifying whether or not this was a good idea. But, folks, let me tell you, there is hardly anyway for me to guess just how many wonderful meals I've capped off with this special dessert. Another winner but one that I will certainly try to limit going forward because the other is done now and it's way too late to do anything about it now. And, yes, it was also yummy. Are you hungry yet?

I've actually heard people talk about how glad they are that they will never have to eat those kinds of meals like they had growing up. Maybe they are the ones that help build those statistics about how so many are walking around with an undiagnosed mental problem. I just diagnosed it for them. To think that anyone would prefer a fast food menu or pretty much any other restaurant food to good old home cooking, they really do have a problem folks, and I am concerned about them. I talked to a fellow one time who said he has never been able to eat fried chicken, even as a kid. He had been a country boy like me. May I just say that Sunday's around my growing up would have been slim pickings for that boy. Didn't like fried chicken? Maybe I should have asked to see his passport. Or, perhaps he had a bad experience with chickens when he was a kid. I suppose it could happen. The funny thing about it is how that we did invite him and his wife to our home one time. One of my wife's absolute all time winners is how she prepares her fried chicken. That's what we served. I learned later about his aversion to this delicacy and felt bad about it, but, as best I recall, we did have quite a bit left over and I carried it in my lunch for several days. So, there you go. A happy ending after all. If our cast iron skillets could talk they would fill up some pages folks. Not just cornbread. But they have been faithful in performing their duties for all these years and I think many of them were passed down to us so there's just no telling, no way to tell at all. Okay. I fulfilled my cornbread quota. (One photo for each paragraph) And now it's time to wish you a great Saturday and Lord Day's Sunday and Lord willing I'll be right here on Monday, and until then may the Good Lord bless your little pea picking heart. Amen.      ....More later.