Isn't it strange how certain smells or tastes bring back such memories. My Grandma Patton always made butterscotch pudding and homemade bread for us when we visited her. We usually visited during the summer and had all the garden goodies from the traveling produce truck. Dose anyone remember the "traveling produce trucks" that used to come through the neighborhood for folks that didn't grow their own veggies? My grandfather was a coal miner, they lived on a little piece of land, with not much growing space, so they never had a garden of their own. He did raise honey bees during the depression so the family could have honey and he sold a little of it to the neighbors. Theer's alsp stories of the moonshine still in the basement but the family won't talk much ablout it -- I need to remember to ask my mom.
I just read the cutest blog of a husband taking care of a wife, who has recently had surgery.. you have to give him credit for trying. Isn't it strange how men just think the house "takes care of itself" but they don't know how to wash clothes without the underwear getting pink, or looking at the dates on packages so the money isn't wasted on expired items.